A Prophecy Lost
by bm16
Summary: Six hundred years ago, a dying priest, one of the last of those who formed the Order, predicted an uprising, a rebirth, of the fallen ones. Now, the prediction is unfolding and the only one who can stop it is someone who has no idea of the prophecy.Ch.10u
1. Aftermath

**Okay, since I've wrote post-AoD fics that take place a year or so after the ending of the game, I decided it was time to write one that takes place directly after the game itself. I've been working on this for a month and want to take my time on it, make sure all the facts are right. It's slow going but it's been fun. Here's the first chapter to get you all started. : )****

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**Chapter One: Aftermath**

Lara Croft stumbled out into the arena where she had last seen Kurtis Trent before he battled the giant, mutated Boaz. The sight she saw literally tugged at her heart strings. Her hand touched her chest and she bent down in a pool of blood, presumably Kurtis', as she reached for his Chirugai. _Oh God_, she thought. _He's dead_.

She placed her fingers through the holes of his disc and it magically came to life, pulling against her. Her first instinct was the drop it, in fear that the five blades that sprang out from the sides would cut her flesh, but she struggled against it as it pulled her through the very door that Boaz had emerged, trying to tell her something. _Maybe he is alive_, her mind told her and she ran through the dark corridors.

After what seemed like hours, the Chirugai came free of Lara's grip and she reached to grab it, but failed as it flew off down the left hall. Lara sprinted after it, following the orange flame it produced as it traveled down through the darkness that surrounded her. To her surprise, the disc stopped and hovered above an object, a person, whom Lara hoped was Kurtis. Then, it stopped glowing and dropped to the floor, a reverberating clank sounding as it made contact with the cold concrete below.

She slowed her pace to a steady walk and approached the person, and was relieved to see that it was Kurtis slumped against the wall, his head bowed down, chin almost touching his collarbone. His right arm was thrown across his abdomen and his left lay limp on the ground clutching his Boran X. Lara touched his shoulder lightly with her hand when he jerked his head up and stared at her with those blue eyes; the color in them lost.

"Lara?" he managed to say faintly before falling over and passing out in her lap.

Lara looked down at Kurtis who lay limp in her lap. She was trying to keep from panicking, the worst thoughts rushing through her head, but she pushed them out and remained calm, focusing on the situation that lay in front of her; Kurtis was in dire need of help.

She placed her hands firmly on his shoulders and pulled him off of her, getting him to lean back against the wall. She knew there was no way she would be able to get him out of the Strahov unconscious.

"Kurtis?" she said, shaking him. When he didn't wake or respond, she tried again, this time raising her voice. "Kurtis!" She slapped her hand across his face and he jolted awake. Lara stood up, bringing Kurtis with her, throwing his arm over her shoulder and supporting his weight on her body. "Stay with me, Kurtis, stay with me." They walked down the corridor Lara had ran down earlier while chasing his Chirugai.

"Is that concern I hear in your voice?" Kurtis mumbled, a small smirk spreading across his face.

Lara nudged the door marked 'Exit'. It had been printed in Czech, but it was one of the few words she knew. When it opened, she looked down at Kurtis. "Glad to see that you still have your sense of humor." He didn't reply and they continued along, working their way down the stairs. Lara could tell that Kurtis was having difficulty going down the flights so she stopped. She looked at Kurtis and sighed. "I'm going to have to carry you."

"No, I can…I can make it." Kurtis replied weakly.

Lara shook her head and they continued on down the stairs until they reached another door which Lara kicked open, keeping it from closing shut by letting it hit against her back. She grunted as the metal slammed against her spine, stealing her breath for a few moments.

The cold, winter air of Prague hit her skin and made her shiver as goose bumps began to rise to the surface of her tan skin. But she continued on, despite the cold that pricked at her like thousands of needles, until she found Kurtis' motorcycle. There was no way she could transport him to the hospital on that bike of his, since he was already starting to slip in and out of consciousness. _Damn_, she thought. _If we take the bike, I risk him falling off. If I call an ambulance, I risk him freezing to death._

"Keys," Kurtis muttered. "In…front…pocket."

Lara glanced over at Kurtis. He was trying to get his keys out of his pocket, but failed in doing so. "What?"

"Keys," he repeated. "In…front…pocket." Lara stuck her hand into his jeans pocket, feeling around for the warm metal of the keys and finally pulled them from his pocket. "Good. Put…in…ignition."

Lara grumbled as she stuck the keys into the ignition and started the engine. "You're mad, you know that?"

Kurtis grinned and pulled himself atop the bike. "Get…on."

"Kurtis, you're not able to drive." Lara warned.

"I can…do…it." Kurtis reassured her. "Just get…on."

Lara grumbled and climbed on the bike behind him. "But if you fall…"

"I'll let you say I told you so," Kurtis joked. "Just relax. I've had worse."

The engine roared and Kurtis gripped the throttle and they sped down the alley toward the closest hospital.


	2. A New Beginning

Chapter Two: A New Beginning

There was a loud knock on the oak door of an apartment house adorning the number, 23. After a few moments, there was no answer and the knock came again.

"Alright, alright," a voice said from inside the apartment. "Hold your horses." The person approached the door, pulling the ties of their robe and closing it shut. They opened the door to see two police officers standing outside. "May I help you?"

"Miss. DeCombel?" one of the officers asked, to assure that they had the right apartment.

"Yes?" the girl answered confusion in her voice.

"Sorry to disturb you," the officer said, "but we're here concerning your cousin, a Mr. Kurtis Trent."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I haven't seen him in over two years. I couldn't tell you of his whereabouts."

The second officer stepped forward. "That's not the problem, ma'am."

"Then what _is_ the problem?" she asked, aggravated.

"We have reason to believe that your cousin is…well, dead." The second officer informed.

She gripped her chest. "Dead?"

"There was activity around the Strahov late last night. He was seen entering the building but never came out. An investigation crew has been working inside all day and has found no traces of Mr. Trent." The first officer continued.

She gulped. "What…why would he have gone into the Strahov?"

The officers exchanged looks. "That is classified information." There was a long pause before anyone spoke. "Ma'am, we are ending the investigation. We just came to inform you that your cousin has passed."

"How did you even know that Kurtis was my cousin?" she asked.

"You were the only registered living family member Miss. DeCombel." One of the officers said. "Miss. DeCombel…"

"Kaylay," she corrected.

"…Kaylay," the officer continued. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Kaylay smiled and ran a hand through her wet hair. "Thank you officers."

They nodded before turning to walk down the hall. Kaylay closed and locked the door, leaned against the wood, fell to her knees on the floor, and began to cry.

* * *

Lara walked into the room where Kurtis was resting. He had been out of surgery for a few hours and she wasn't informed immediately. The nurse had informed her that she had fallen asleep in the waiting room and decided to let Lara sleep then told her that Kurtis was awake and was asking about her.

She crossed the distance between them and sat down on the side of the bed. "How are you doing?"

Kurtis sat up and took hold of Lara's hand which was laying on the covers beside him. "Oh, fine. Kinda tired."

"Kurtis?" Lara pressed.

"What?"

"You were just stabbed." Lara informed.

"Really? I hadn't realized that," Kurtis joked, his signature smirk emerging from his lips.

"Don't you want to talk about it?" Lara asked, just now noticing that his hand was entwined with hers. She didn't release it though.

"There's nothing to talk about," Kurtis was straight to the point. It was clear that he didn't want to talk about his near-death experience.

"Alright," Lara said. There was a long silence between the two of them; the only thing heard was the sound of a near-by wall clock ticking the seconds away. The curtains on the window blew in the slight breeze from the partially open window. "So then I guess you wouldn't be interested in knowing how things went down with Eckhardt." She pulled her hand away from his and stood up, beginning to walk toward the door when he spoke up.

"Croft!" he called. "Come back here."

"Thought that might work," Lara smirked walking back toward the bed, but stopped inches from the side, folding her arms. "Yes?"

"Okay…what happened with Eckhardt?" Kurtis asked rubbing a hand over his face and through his disheveled hair.

Lara sat down in a near-by chair and informed him that this was going to be a long story. She started her story off shortly after Kurtis shoved her up onto the catwalk to escape Boaz. She explained the various traps that she encountered on her way to Eckhardt's lab, the lab itself, and her battle with Eckhardt, only then to be surprised by his associate, Karel. By this point in her story, Kurtis began to get uncomfortable and moved around in the hospital bed. Lara paused for a moment before continuing. When she finally finished, Kurtis spoke.

"So…Karel killed my father?" he asked. "And all these years I thought it was Eckhardt."

"We don't know for sure that is was Karel," Lara reassured him.

"All the signs point to Karel. You even said yourself that he changed into various people…including me!" Kurtis raised his voice. He buried his face in his hands and let out a sigh of frustration.

Lara stood up from the seat. "I think I'd better go." Without anything else said between them, she slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.

* * *

Kaylay DeCombel jumped off her motorcycle and placed the helmet on the seat. She shoved the keys into her coat pocket and then scratched her ankle, pulling up her knee-high boot. She looked up at the building that stood in front of her, begging her to come inside, that the answer to all of her questions would be in there, waiting for her. _Maybe they can't find Kurtis, but I can,_ she thought approaching the doors which were surrounded by police tape. But the yellow 'Caution' tape wasn't going to keep her out. She ducked under it and then pressed her hands against the door, concentrating on the lock with her mind. The lock glowed a bright white then, clicked and the doors flew open, allowing Kaylay to step inside.

Her boots clicked against the concrete floor as she walked around the Strahov, awestruck at the sight of the destruction, wondering what had happened behind these walls.

The place was in shambles; walls had been blown open or perhaps, buckled under some type of explosion, parts of the ceiling were caved in, creating massive piles of rubble on the floor. While assessing the damage, Kaylay realized that it may finally be time to start using her Lux Veritatis powers again after five long years.

She had left the Order shortly after Kurtis did, and, in her search to find her dear cousin, ended up getting sidetracked and never did find him, until two years ago when they ran into each other in Paris. Few words had been exchanged between them and they didn't end on great terms. Now, Kaylay was feeling some resentment from their last meeting and prayed to God that Kurtis _was_ still alive; she didn't think she could deal with being the last of the ancient Order.

As she wandered around the Strahov, searching for any signs of life, her mind began rambling. _That officer said that I was the only registered living family member of Kurtis'. Does that mean…oh God. Uncle Konstantin? Aunt Marie? Oh this is going to crush Kurtis._ But she didn't have much time to piece her thoughts together when she heard a pile of rubble shift. She spun around and approached it, hoping that maybe Kurtis was buried under it. She dug frantically until she found the body of person, barely breathing, but it wasn't Kurtis.

The man had pale skin and light, bleach-blonde hair. His clothes were tattered and dusty; his skin was bruised and bleeding. She finished moving the rubble from around his body and helped him sit up.

"Are you alright?" she asked checking him for any other possible injuries.

"I'm fine," the man spoke. "Just sore."

Kaylay looked up and smiled. "Thank God." She stuck her hand out and shook his. "My name's Kaylay."

The man shook hers back and smiled. "Joachim Karel."

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**Thanks for the reviews on Chapter One...I enjoy reading them so keep them coming! I know the chapters are short now, but soon they'll be getting a bit longer (with more information as well). :P -bm16**


	3. Released

Okay, I know this is long over-due, but this chapter needed some _major_ editing and I never got around to it until this evening. So here is Chapter 3; edited and ready to be read. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Three: Released**

A week later Kurtis was released from the hospital. The doctor informed Lara that he was doing much better, but he should try and rest as needed; he didn't want Kurtis over-exerting himself. But he was, nevertheless, impressed at the remarkable speed of Kurtis' recovery.

In the week of Kurtis' recovery, Lara had been spending hours upon hours clearing her name of all charges with the Parisian police. She had already been cleared of all charges in Prague, since there was an investigation in the Strahov that proved Eckhardt was behind all those murders. But the Parisian police would not believe it, so she'd spent valuable hours on the phone with them down at the Prague station, working with the Czech police, and finally, was cleared in both countries.

After being discharged by one of the nurses, Lara and Kurtis walked out of the hospital into the parking lot where his bike was sitting. Lara had been staying at a near-by hotel and had commandeered his bike for the short rides back and forth between the two buildings. He didn't mind, just as long as she promised not to go off and leave him in Prague, which she had reassured him that she wouldn't. When they approached the bike, Lara pulled the keys from her pocket and handed them to him. "Put 'em in the ignition."

Kurtis snatched them out of her hand and smirked. "No protests this time?"

Lara shook her head. "Nope."

"Sweet," he jumped on his bike and started the engine as Lara climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Where to?"

Lara thought for a moment and finally answered. "Turkey."

Kurtis turned around in his seat. "I thought you lived in England?"

"I do." Lara replied. "I've been doing some research on the Nephilim; I couldn't let it go, not after what happened with Karel, and found some info linking to an underground city in Cappadocia. What's the worst that could happen?" Ironically, after she spoke these words, a bullet whizzed past their heads and embedded itself into the wall behind them. Mercenaries in combat fatigues emerged from behind vehicles, fully armed, and began approaching the two. "Guess I spoke too soon," Lara joked as Kurtis revved the engine, speeding out of the parking lot, as rapid gunfire occurred in an attempt to kill the two adventurers.

As they sped away, putting distance between them and the guards who had just tried to assassinate them, Kurtis had a thought and he yelled at Lara over the sound of the engine. "Do you think those mercenaries are Karel's?"

Lara pondered this for a moment. "I don't see how it could be. He's dead."

Kurtis slammed on the breaks, bringing the bike to a halt. "Well, there's your answer."

Lara leaned to her left so she could see past Kurtis' body and cursed under her breath. Standing before them, was Joachim Karel, and he was grinning, his hands clasped behind his back as he walked toward them.

"Hello," Karel said smugly. "Do you not appreciate your 'Welcome Home' party?" Neither Kurtis nor Lara gave an answer, so Karel continued. "I'm sure you're surprised to see me alive, considering that Ms. Croft left me for dead." He paused and cracked his neck, releasing the tension that had built up in the muscles. "But here I stand, living and breathing before you."

"Your point?" Kurtis asked. "'Cuz we don't have all day."

Karel chuckled. "I don't have 'points' Mr. Trent." There was a brief pause while Karel considered his next words. "Mr. Trent," he continued. "I believe I have something of yours that I'm sure you'd like to have back." He pulled a blade like object from his jacket pocket and waved it around in the air, in plain sight.

"The Periapt Shards," Kurtis seethed.

"Ah," Karel grinned. "The Periapt…Shards. I thought that might get your blood pumping."

"You actually think tempting me with those ancient weapons is going to get you what you want?" Kurtis asked, already growing weary of the situation. He took in his surroundings. Guards surrounded him and Lara, Karel stood next to them, and Marten Gunderson stood behind them.

"No," Karel said. "I'm just going to destroy them anyway." He placed the shard back in his pocket.

"Then what are you doing here?" Lara asked after being silent throughout the whole pointless conversation.

Karel smirked. "To commandeer Mr. Trent of course. I need him in the next stage of my plan."

Before Lara could say anything in return, Kurtis pulled his Boran X with his free hand and twisted the throttle with the other, sending the bike in the opposite direction as Karel. Before the guards could register that Kurtis was on the attack, he had knocked five of them dead and sped off around the corner, driving down the road at high speeds, far too high for the icy road conditions.

Karel muttered obscenities under his breath as he fingered a bullet hole in his forearm that was already beginning to fade away. "Find them!" He ordered to Gunderson. "And bring me the Lux Veritatis un-harmed."

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That evening, in the hotel room, Lara plopped down on the bed next to Kuris. He had been flipping through the channels trying to find something to watch since they checked in, but at the late hours of the night, he was having no such luck. 

"Where the hell are we?" he asked setting the remote down after the TV clicked off.

"From the looks of it…a hotel room," Lara replied.

"I still think it's a bad idea to be staying in a hotel," Kurtis said. "We should have continued driving, like I suggested." He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, took one out of the box, and set it between his lips. "It's far too dangerous." He flicked his lighter and lit the cigarette, slipping the lighter back into his pocket. Lara reached up and pulled the cigarette from his mouth, extinguishing it on the floor with her foot. Kurtis looked at her. "Was that supposed to be fun?"

"I don't like smokers," Lara informed lying down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "I can't stand the smell." She'd barely spoken to Kurtis all day, on account of the run-in with Karel and all the escaping they'd been doing. She really wanted to get to know him ever since he disarmed her in the Lourve. She felt a connection between them; a connection she'd never felt before. "Besides, you'll be needing all of your lung capacity if we run into Karel again."

"I haven't had a cigarette in a week," Kurtis complained pulling another from the pack. There was a long pause between them, a silence that began to grow tedious. "Fine." Kurtis put the cigarette back in the pack and leaned on his elbow, facing Lara. "My father, Konstantin, was killed by Eckhardt, or so I thought until recently."

Lara sat up so she was level with Kurtis. "Kurtis, you don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do." Kurtis continued. "I hadn't seen him in years, thirteen to be exact. I left home when I was nineteen; he pushed me to my breaking point. I had no money, no place to go, so I joined the French Foreign Legion in which I was in for five years. Then I hooked up with Gunderson, working for him as a mercenary and conducted semi-legal operations. It was free-lance and I needed the money." He paused. "A few years ago, I got word from my father. He had always contacted me through regular letters, but I disregarded the; I usually threw them away without reading, but this one frightened me. He also sent it with his two Periapt Shards, which I explained to you in the Strahov, as well as his Chirugai. It was then that I knew he was in trouble. But when I arrived home, I was too late. My entire family had been slaughtered." He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to block out the images of his parents lying dead on the floor of their home, a pool of their blood surrounding them, the strange Nephilic markings on the wall of his childhood home. "After I found them dead, I began to panic. Before I left thirteen years ago, my cousin, Kaylay, was living with us because her father, my uncle, was away, and someone needed to continue training her. When I didn't see her that night I returned, I began to wonder if she was alright. I tracked her down in Paris and dropped by for a visit. It had been a short conversation, full of anger. I never told her about my parents." He looked down and noticed that his hands were shaking. He tried to control it and hope that Lara wouldn't notice. "I haven't seen her since and have no idea if she's alive; it's possible that Eckhardt could have gotten to her as well as the other Lux children. As far as I know, I'm the last of the Order."

Lara took hold of his shaking hands and looked up into his eyes. "I was buried in Egypt…left for dead." She closed her eyes, remembering the whole incident like it happened just yesterday. She tried to block out the memories of the darkness of the tomb; the coldness; the fear that had lived inside her as she tried to escape the tomb that could have been hers. "My friend, ex-mentor, Werner von Croy, left me helpless and trapped in the ancient tomb." She gripped Kurtis' hand tighter, fighting her own mind battles and trying to overcome them once again. "I felt so much resentment toward him for so long afterwards, and now he's dead and I can't come to terms with it; I can finally forgive him and I only wish he were still alive so he could know that I have forgotten." Before she knew it, she had told Kurtis the whole story of Egypt, why she had gone there in the first place, what she did, how Werner left her to die, and the natives that rescued her, healed her, and tried to bring her out of her depression. She also found herself explaining the meeting that ensued between her and Werner in his apartment before he was brutally murdered.

"I think on some level, he knew you forgave him," Kurtis told her.

* * *

The next day came all too soon and Lara moaned as she blinked back the blinding light of the morning sun. She noticed Kurtis sitting on the windowsill, smoking a cigarette, looking out at the horizon. 

He turned his head and caught a brief glimpse at Lara. He flicked the ashes off the end of the cigarette and then stubbed it out on the sill. "Did I wake you?"

Lara shook her head, still adjusting to the brightness. "No." She noted that Kurtis was without his shirt, a large gash in his stomach adorned with eleven stitches, a smaller one on his back, perpendicular to the one in front. Her eyes lingered over his stomach, taking in the definition of his abs and the firmness of his chest. She watched as it slowly moved up and down with each breath he took. She looked away when Kurtis turned his head back toward her. "How did you sleep?"

Kurtis shrugged standing up and closed the window, pulling the shades closed. He pointed to the chaise lounger that was in the room. "That thing…is very uncomfortable." There was a brief silence as he waited for Lara to say something, but she didn't so he quickly changed the subject. "I'm starved. What do you say about finding some eats?"

"Sounds brilliant," Lara replied throwing back the covers. She stood from the bed and stretched her tired, sore muscles.

"Wow," Kurtis said. "You always sleep in those?" Lara looked at him; her brows furrowed and then down at herself, and realized that she was only wearing the tank-top from the previous day and a pair of skimpy underwear. "Never pegged you as the type of girl to wear lace."

Lara threw a pillow at him. "Shut-up," She walked off to the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her. "…and wipe that look off your face."

Kurtis smirked and tossed the pillow onto the bed. He pulled his black T-shirt on over his head, holstered his gun, and opened the door to the hotel room, exiting into the hall, hoping to afford the food in the restaurant downstairs.

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**I'm glad that you're all enjoying this story so much and I _loved_ the reviews! Thanks to all of my friends at the Sani for inspiring me to continue writing this! -bm16**


	4. Welcome to Turkey

And I'm back...with a new chapter:P**

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**Chapter Four: Welcome to Turkey**

After ordering breakfast in the hotels restaurant and bringing it back up to the room, Kurtis and Lara ate and then got back on the bike to continue their journey to Cappadocia.

That afternoon, while stopped for gas, Lara came out of the quick mart and tossed a soda at Kurtis, who caught it one handed and took a gulp. "Thanks."

Lara leaned against the pump and crossed her arms. "What do you suppose Karel meant by commandeering you? What is he planning?"

"Evil," Kurtis ventured.

"That's a given," Lara informed. "He was pretty adamant about reviving the Nephilim, offering me the chance to be a part of a 'benign' new world order."

"Sounds anything other than benign," Kurtis said placing the gas cap back on the bike. He took another gulp of his soda before disposing of it in a near-by garbage can. He hopped on the bike and started the engine and waited for Lara to mount before taking off.

* * *

A black car stopped in the middle of the Turkish desert. The back door opened, and Karel stepped out, clad in a black sweater, quite unusual for the warm temperatures. He stepped away from the car a bit, holding out his hand to guide a woman from the vehicle.

"Ms. Lewis," Karel said to the woman, taking in the surroundings, "welcome to Cappadocia, home of the Nephilim."

The woman, Ms. Lewis, who was actually Kaylay DeCombel, looked around. She wasn't real impressed with her surroundings, but it was important to Karel and she was working for him so she didn't see the need to complain. "I thought Cappadocia was underground?"

Karel turned to face her. "My dear Kaylay, the city is beneath the sands of Cappadocia." He raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed it and then looked into her blue eyes. "The underground city is much more beautiful than this barren wasteland." He gestured to the desert that stretched out before them. He then bared a smile. "You'll soon know."

* * *

Within a few hours, a mock archaeological dig site was erected and swarming with many of Gunderson's guards.

Kaylay sat at desk in one of the tents that littered the sand, reading the _Book of Enoch_. She had read it as a child, but it was the only piece of literature Karel had given her to read. She set the book down atop the table and rested her legs on the desk, crossed at the ankles, and absorbed what had happened to her the last week.

She had found out that her beloved cousin was dead, teamed up with Karel, a Nephilim, the very thing she had sworn to protect the world from her entire life, and was now involved in reviving the race. _How much lower can I get?_ She thought just as Karel walked into the tent.

"The dig is going as planned," he informed her sitting down in the opposite chair. "Gunderson would like to see you."

"Did he say why?" Kaylay asked, suspicious. She knew Kurtis had worked for Gunderson and had stayed away from him since she became employed by Karel.

"No," Karel said lifting the book from the desk and closing it. "He's just outside, managing those brainless mercenaries of his."

Kaylay removed her legs from the desk and stood up, straightening her shirt. She remained speechless as she exited the tent, and was taken by surprise when Gunderson wrapped his arm around her neck, clasping a hand over her mouth. He whispered into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "Don't say a word and don't consider screaming for help. I can snap your neck in two with a quick flick of my wrist."

Kaylay nodded to his words and he pulled her into the shadows behind a near-by rock wall. He pushed her against the wall, holding her arms to her side so she couldn't fight back against him. He pressed his face close to hers. "I know who you are. You don't fool me." He paused briefly as her eyes stared at him in nervous confusion. "The similarity to Mr. Trent is uncanny."

Kaylay managed a breathless sentence. "You know who I am?"

"Of course I do." Gunderson breathed. "You really think you could fool me?"

In that instant, a memory that had long been forgotten suddenly came back to Kaylay and hit her like a ton of bricks.

_"Hey Marten!" Kurtis' voice called across the mess hall. "My cousin's arrived."_

_An older man, probably early thirties, turned to look at Kurtis. "Well, bring her in. You talk about her so much…it's time we meet the girl."_

_Behind Kurtis, Kaylay walked in, just a young girl at the time, probably sixteen, seventeen at the oldest. "This is Kaylay…my cousin."_

_Gunderson raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Pleased to meet you."_

"Oh my God," Kaylay breathed. She hadn't realized that she did come into contact with Kurtis eleven years ago before she left home. Her memory had failed to remind her of that little episode a week back.

Gunderson released his grip on her arms, but remained holding them. "Remember something?" His voice was to the point, like he was expecting her to remember meeting him all those years ago.

Kaylay nodded and attempted to free herself from his grasp. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"

Gunderson released her and took a step back. "Wanted to make sure I had my facts right before I confronted you." He watched as Kaylay rubbed the sore parts of her forearms where he had held her a bit too tight. "Sorry about that." He pointed to the redness on her arms. "Didn't think I was gripping you that tight."

"It's alright," Kaylay informed. "I've had worse." She looked up and met Gunderson's gray-blue eyes. "You're not going to tell Karel that I'm Lux Veritatis, are you?"

Gunderson smiled. "No. I would never betray a friend."

* * *

Lara jolted awake when the bike stopped outside a hotel. She removed her arms from Kurtis' waist and looked up at the building sprawled out before them. "Where are we?" she asked groggily.

"Turkey," Kurtis replied. "You fell asleep on me about four hours ago. It seemed like you needed the sleep, so I didn't wake you."

Lara watched as he got off the bike and then helped her off, since her body was still sleeping. She approached the door of the hotel and walked in, taking in the surrounding area. It wasn't much, not what she was used to anyway. The floor was hardwood but it was falling apart and in dire need of staining; wallpaper hung loosely off the walls; the upholstery on the furniture was torn and tattered; the television in the corner of the lounge was an old black and white set with tin foil over the antenna and the picture didn't come in clear.

The person behind the desk acknowledged their presence, startling Lara with the clearing of their throat. "May I help you?" His voice was raspy and he couldn't seem to look them in the eye.

Lara approached the desk only to be yanked back by Kurtis. He talked to the man, keeping his hand around Lara's wrist. "We need a room for tonight."

"Just one?" the man asked pulling out a large three ringer binder from a shelf behind him. He opened it up and looked through the log. "'Cause we've only got one room left."

"One will do," Kurtis answered, still having hold of Lara's wrist.

The man removed the pen that was tucked behind his ear. "Name?"

Kurtis looked at Lara. "Hey, don't look at me. You're the one who had to jump in and ask for a room." She raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the front desk. "Well go on, think of something clever."

Kurtis inhaled deeply before letting out a frustrating sigh. He thought a moment and then answered the man, who was looking at them strangely. "DeCombel." Kurtis finally spit out.

"Ah, the French," the man said. "We don't get many French in Turkey. What's your business here in Cappadocia?"

"Just that…business," Kurtis answered as he took the key the man slid across the counter.

"Not my place to ask I guess," the man said. "Room 27, second floor. Welcome to Turkey."

Once they turned and headed toward the stairs, Lara ripped her hand from Kurtis' grip. "Where'd you come up with that name?"

Kurtis glared and when they approached the door to their room, he opened it without using the key and entered. "It's my real name."

Lara closed the door behind her and securely locked it. "Your _real_ name?"

"I changed it to Trent when I joined the Legion, okay?" He plopped down on the bed and rubbed a hand over his tired face. "Enough of the third degree."

Lara sat down on the edge of the bed and un-laced her boots. She slid them off her feet and tossed them toward the desk that sat in the far corner of the room. She looked over at Kurtis who was staring at the ceiling. She noticed that dog tags hung from around his neck and off to the side. "Why do you still wear those?"

Kurtis looked at her. "What?"

"The dog tags. You're not in the Legion anymore."

"Habit." He muttered sitting up. "I'm going to shower."

Lara watched as he stood up and stripped off his shirt, his muscles tightening as he lifted his arms up and over his head. He tossed the shirt to the side so it landed on the bed. An intricate tattoo, black as night, embraced his back from shoulders to below the waistband of his pants. _That must have been painful_, she thought as he walked into the bathroom, the door closing behind him.

* * *

After Kurtis came out of the bathroom, Lara entered to get cleaned up herself. Kurtis took advantage of the situation and pulled a cigarette from the pack in his jeans pocket and lit it, breathing in the chemicals like they were candy.

He stood by the open window, shirtless, allowing the cool winter air of the Turkish evening to hit his torso. His chest moved up and down slowly with each breath he took, his dog tags moving with them, clanking quietly against each other. He touched his wound with his free hand, feeling the roughness of the stitches and wishing he could take them out.

He took a long drag on the cigarette butt before flicking it out the window. He rested his arm against the sill, placing his head on his forearm and looked out at the dark evening sky. He sighed, his face complacent and lost in thought. His hair was still damp from his shower earlier and bits of water dripped down onto his face. He rubbed a hand over his face to dry the water droplets off. In the distance, nothing but the stars could be seen. He looked at those stars; those stars that his father once showed to him, teaching him the constellations, especially the ones that were on the Lux Veritatis seal, and memories that had long been forgotten came rushing back to him, making him want to cry, but he held back said tears and reached out to grab the window, pulling it toward him and closed it, latching it shut.

When he turned around, Lara was standing there, showered and dressed, staring at him. He knew what she was going to say but didn't want to hear it. "Don't." he said closing the shades. "Just…don't."

"Kurtis…" she began but he cut her off.

"I don't want to talk about it," he answered, still looking at the window even though he couldn't see through the shade.

"Something is bothering you," Lara pressed. "You can talk to me."

He turned around and glared at her, his eyebrows furrowed. "You just don't quit, do you?" Lara didn't answer; this he was expecting. He crossed the distance between them and stopped inches from her body. He lifted a hand and touched her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin, and brushed his thumb along her jaw line. He lifted her head and leaned in, pressing his lips against hers. He felt her kiss back, gently and unsure of the situation at first and then hardened the kiss. His tongue felt for hers; the kiss deepened, and he pulled her up against his body, running his free hand over her arm and down to her waist, tugging at the hem of her T-shirt. He felt her pull away from him and he was left looking into her eyes.

Kurtis watched Lara touch her fingers to her lips as they stared at each other, not sure if they should continue and go down the path that they both wanted to, but feared that it would open doors and lead to something they both weren't ready for yet. Lara opened her mouth to speak when he placed a finger against her lips and shook his head.

He moved away from her and walked over to the bed, pulled the covers back, and sat down, burying his head in his hands. _Idiot_, he thought to himself. _You want her, just be a man and do it_. But he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind and crawled under the covers, resting his head on the pillow. He reached up and turned the light off.

A few hours later, he felt Lara crawl into the bed next to him, her back toward his. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her fold the pillow under her head. Then, he heard her sob quietly to sleep. In that moment, he wanted to take her into his arms and hold her, sooth her, tell her everything would be okay, but something in the back of his mind kept him from doing so and he rolled back over, staring at the wall in the dark, watching the shadows dance across the room.

* * *

**Thanks again for the reviews guys! They keep me inspired and give me the motivation to keep on going with this fic. Things are starting to heat-up a little between Lara and Kurtis...and maybe theres a little something going on with Kaylay and Gunderson; who knows. :P -bm16**


	5. Found

How long has it been? Two months? That's way too long to wait for an update. Well, here's the next chapter. It's probably one of the shortest chapters so far. Anyway, happy reading:D**

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**Chapter Five: Found**

The next morning Lara rolled over to find that Kurtis no longer occupied the bed next to her. He sat in a chair on the opposite side of the room, his legs propped up on the coffee table, his head leaning back against the head rest of the seat, snoring softly.

Lara pushed back the covers and pulled on the pair of shorts she dropped by the side of the bed the night before. She walked over to the bathroom and stopped in the doorway, taking the moment to glance at Kurtis and memorize his peaceful state. His hair was all mussed and he looked like he hadn't shaved in days. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the stab wound in his stomach. It had to still hurt and if it did, he showed no sign of pain. She sighed and stepped into the bathroom, then took a step out, looking at Kurtis again, wishing they would have gone farther the night before.

He stirred, startling her, and she darted into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She leaned against the door and turned her head to look at herself in the mirror. _Pull yourself together girl_, she told herself. _He's not worth it_.

* * *

Karel walked into Kaylay's tent where he found her asleep on top of the cot that was set up for her the night before. A book lay open on her stomach, the spine facing up. Karel removed the book from her body, gently closed it, and set it down on the table. He stood there for a moment, debating whether or not he should stay or leave, when she awoke and shielded her eyes from the light that poured in through the crack in the tent's door.

"Good morning," Karel said.

Kaylay looked at Karel and rubbed a hand over her face and through her tangled brown hair. "Hi. Um…what are you doing?"

"I came to see if you were awake," Karel stated. "I talked to Gunderson at breakfast."

"Oh?" Kaylay answered stretching her sore, tired muscles.

"He's heading into town this morning and wanted to know if you'd be willing to go with." Karel informed.

"Oh," Kaylay relaxed a little. "Sure."

Karel smiled. "Alright. I'll let him know. Be ready in ten minutes."

He exited the tent and approached Gunderson. "She's willing to go. If you find Trent and Croft, you know what to do." Gunderson nodded. "And _don't_ let Ms. Lewis get hurt."

* * *

Kurtis opened his eyes and scanned the room. Lara was sitting in a chair opposite him flipping through that morning's paper which she got from downstairs. She sipped coffee while she read.

"Coffee? Where'd you get that?" Kurtis asked.

"Downstairs," Lara informed.

Kurtis nodded and yawned. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and narrowed his eyes. "Is that _my_ T-shirt?"

Lara set down the paper and looked down at the shirt she wore, and then back up at Kurtis. "Sorry, all of mine were dirty. I put them in the wash downstairs…along with some of your garments."

"Thanks," Kurtis said reaching for Lara's coffee and taking a sip. "This coffee tastes horrible by the way." He set it back down on the table next to her. He drummed his thumbs on the corner of the wood. "I'm bored. You wanna go out to town?"

Lara eyed her coffee, debating whether or not to finish it. "Um…sure, why not." She picked up her cup. "Let's get you some coffee of your own."

Kurtis took the cup from her hands. "I'll just finish yours off." He took a sip. "Since you seem to think I've poisoned it." He put the coffee back on the table between them and licked his lips. "As I said, horrible coffee. What'd you put in it?"

He watched Lara smirked as she picked the paper back up, and chose to answer his question with much amusement. "Nothing. It's not coffee. It's tea."

* * *

Later that afternoon, Lara and Kurtis, while waiting for their clothes to finish up in the hotel's laundry room, decided to take a leisurely stroll around the city to find a decent restaurant for lunch but they were having difficulty finding one that was clean.

"That last place was disgusting," Lara said. "Did you see that mouse scamper across the floor when that one guy dropped a piece of bread?"

Kurtis nodded. "I'm beginning to think we should have just ate at the hotel." When Lara gave him a cold glare, he immediately changed the subject to get Lara's mind off of whose fault it was that they were roaming the streets of Cappadocia. "So, have you found anything on the you-know-what?"

"I have some leads," Lara answered, a formidable undertone creeping out in her voice. "I still have yet to find anything of importance."

"Hmm…" Kurtis pondered. "Well I'd sure like to know what Karel wants with me. Did you find anything on that?" She didn't answer, just continued walking along, tuning his voice out. "Fine, ignore me." They walked along for a few more moments before coming up on a near-by deli. Kurtis pointed toward the building. "How about the deli? It's our last chance."

"Alright," Lara breathed.

* * *

Gunderson crossed the threshold of the deli and leaned his back against the outside wall. He stared ahead at the stretch of desert before him. But his gaze was interrupted when two people walked toward him, catching his eye. The man looked very familiar and the woman…he knew he'd seen her before, but couldn't place where. As they came closer, he immediately recognized them.

"Trent?" he asked.

"Gunderson," Kurtis sneered. "What are you doing here?"

"Business," he replied. "Ah, Miss. Croft. Remember me?"

"How could I forget," Lara answered. "You tried to kill me in the Lourve."

Gunderson winced. He removed himself from the wall and took a few steps away from them to avoid any un-expected punches they might throw his way. "Sorry about that. Let's let by-gones, be by-gones."

"How about not?" Kurtis replied. "Answer my question."

"I did. I said I was here on business." Gunderson answered. He knew Trent wouldn't let it go, so he decided that he should start explaining before the situation got even worse. "Karel's conducting business here. He's got this insane notion of reviving the Nephilim again…this time here in Cappadocia."

"That's not all you know," Kurtis pressed the matter. "Come on Marten! Spill!"

Before he could open his mouth to say anything more, Kaylay came out of the deli, two sandwiches in hand. "Marten, I got your sandwich. They were out of honey mustard so I just had them use regular. I hope that's alright." She turned to look at the two people Gunderson was talking to. She stopped mid-step and dropped the sandwiches to the sandy road below her. "Oh. My. God."

Kurtis' eyes grew wide as he looked at the woman. His mouth suddenly became dry and every muscle in his body froze. "Kaylay?"

Kaylay gulped; her eyes just as wide as Kurtis' and gasped one last word before she passed out. "Kurtis?"

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**Short, isn't it? Well, as always, thank you for the reviews; looking foward to more. -bm16**


	6. Alliances

I know this is a little late, but I hope everyones holidays were great.

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**Chapter Six: Alliances**

Once back to the hotel where Lara and Kurtis were staying, they barged into the room carrying the unconscious girl. Gunderson laid Kaylay down on the bed and then sat down in a near-by chair.

"What? Who? Huh?" Lara questioned. "Who is this girl? How do you know her?" She had hold of Kurtis' collar and was shaking him back and forth, demanding answers.

"Lara, relax!" Kurtis yelled removing her hands from his shirt and gripped her wrists. "She's my cousin."

"Cousin?!" Lara barked. "You said you're family was dead! You never said anything of a living cousin."

"Actually, what I said was that I hadn't seen her in two years and had no idea if she was still alive." He explained. He released Lara from his grip and walked over to the bed where his cousin lay. He took hold of her hand in his. "I'm glad she's alright." He brushed some loose hairs from her face then looked up at Gunderson. "What is she doing here?"

"She works for Karel," Gunderson said.

"What?"

"She found him in the Strahov. I don't know the whole story; that you'll have to ask her." Gunderson informed. He looked around the room, uneasy. "This seems like a family matter. I'll wait in the lobby."

"I'll go with you." Lara said.

* * *

After an hour or so, Kaylay came to and woke to a hand lightly holding hers.

"You're awake," Kurtis' voice said. "How do you feel?"

"A bit confused," she answered sitting up slowly. "I thought you were dead."

"I thought you were." There was an uncomfortable pause between the two. "How long have you been working for Karel?"

Kaylay pulled her hand from his. "Kurtis, I can't believe you! You'd actually think I'd work for the enemy and help him achieve his goal?!" Kurtis went to open his mouth when she slapped him and continued. "For your information, Gunderson and I are working out a way to foil his plan!"

Kurtis touched his fingers to his slightly red cheek and glanced at his cousin, meeting her icy stare. "How's your brother?"

"Kevin?" she questioned, raising a brow. "Kevin's dead."

"Eckhardt?"

"No. He died in his initiation." Kaylay crossed her arms defensively over her chest and stared out the window, refusing to look Kurtis in the eye.

Kurtis looked down at the bedspread, taking in the pattern as if they would help ease his pain. "Kevin's initiation was…"

"…after you left us."

Kurtis bit back the acidic response that rested on the tip of his tongue. "And you? How was your initiation?"

"I _barely_ survived it," Kaylay snapped. "No thanks to you." She paused and turned her eyes back to him. "You left. I was fifteen, Kurtis. You were my friend, my mentor; you helped me to achieve my goals, forced me to go to Lux classes, and then you just _left_."

"I had to. Father drove me away,"

"No. Uncle Konstantin didn't drive you away, you let yourself be driven away. He didn't force you leave and abandon your family, your heritage."

"You don't understand! You weren't his child!" Kurtis yelled.

Kaylay didn't flinch despite the loudness of his voice and the fact that his Chirugai began flying around the room. "No I wasn't, but my father was never present. He was like a father to me and he pushed me just as hard as he pushed you after you ran off!" She narrowed her eyes and looked deep inside Kurtis' mind. "You think I've changed from the sweet, innocent little girl I used to be. You'd be amazed how much a person changes when the only one who understands them abandons them in their time of need."

* * *

"Did you hear that clearly?" Gunderson asked Lara. "I can't tell what she just said."

"Shh!" Lara snapped. "I'm trying to listen."

"So am I!" Gunderson retorted.

Lara and Gunderson stood outside the hotel room, their ears pressed up against the door, listening intently to the argument between Kurtis and his cousin.

"Well maybe if you stopped talking you could hear what they're saying," Lara informed. "Now shoosh!"

Gunderson rolled his eyes and pressed his ear harder against the door. Through the wood, all he could hear were muffled voices, the words that were spoken seemed to be unclear. _I must get my hearing checked_, he thought. "What'd they say?"

Lara's eyes widened in irritation and she lightly punched his shoulder. "What did I just tell you? Be quiet!"

"Ow," Gunderson said looking down at his shoulder. "That was un-necessary."

"It was perfectly necessary," Lara growled. "Now be quiet. Don't make me gag you."

"Don't make me gag you," Gunderson mimicked and returned to eavesdropping.

"_That_ was uncalled for," Lara said icily.

* * *

"I _abandoned_ you?" Kurtis asked, a bit confused. "I _abandoned _you? Where do you get these insane notions!?"

"They're not insane!" Kaylay argued back. She rubbed her temples with her index fingers, took a deep breath, sighed, and continued. "I was fifteen, Kurtis. Two years away from my initiation when you left Utah. I had counted on you to be there to help me."

"Help you?" Kurtis questioned. "I wanted nothing to do with the Order…you know that."

"I know." Kaylay replied. "But, unknowingly, you guided me, kept me going throughout my training. And then you left—disappeared—never to be seen or heard of again."

Kurtis took hold of her hands and met her gaze. "I hadn't realized that. I'm sorry."

Kaylay pulled her hands from his grip. "It's too late for apologizes."

Then, a thought hit Kurtis like a ton of bricks. "What of the others? The Vasiley girl? The Limoux children? They survived the attacks, yes?" He had hoped that she would say 'yes'—that the younger Lux Veritatis members were still out there—and that the Order would still have a chance.

Kaylay shook her head. "No. Chassidy died shortly after Mathias was found murdered in his apartment. I had warned her not to go to Prague; she didn't listen to me. As for the Limoux's, David was killed by Eckhardt, and I have no idea what has happened to Alessa; for all I know, she could be dead as well."

"How did you survive the attacks?" Kurtis asked, curious that Eckhardt didn't go after here.

"I should be asking you the same."

Kurtis smirked. "Eckhardt had no idea I even existed until a few weeks ago. Your turn."

"I took an alias and disappeared for a while—laid low until the chaos calmed down. But I haven't used my powers since my initiation, so it would've been harder for him to find me, but he never did." She paused for a moment. "And Eckhardt didn't kill Uncle Konstantin and Aunt Marie—that was all Karel's doing." She looked down at her trembling hands. "He killed Poppa as well."

"You finally made-up with Uncle Caleb?" Kurtis asked.

"Yes. Shortly before he was murdered," Kaylay informed. She paused briefly, looked toward the door, and pointed in its direction. "By the way, Lara and Marten are out there eavesdropping."

* * *

"What was that?" Gunderson asked.

Lara pulled away from the door and looked from it to Gunderson. "I think we've been detected." She looked around and pointed down the hall. "Quick, run that way."

But they were too late. The door flew open and there stood Kurtis, his arms crossed over his chest. "_I'll go wait in the lobby_, they say. I must say, I love what the hotel has done to their lobby in the last few days."

"Kurtis, this isn't how it looks," Lara defended herself, but then realized that it was useless to come up with excuses. "Alright, it's exactly how it looks. After a while, we figured you two would be done talking so we decided to come back up and—wait a minute, why am I explaining myself to you?"

Gunderson leaned forward. "Because you were caught and want to make a settlement for yourself." She glared at him. "But I could be mistaken." And he moved back a few steps to avoid being punched in the face.

"Actually, he's got a good point," Kurtis pointed out. He smirked and looked at Lara. "I guess it's safe for you to come back in. I think it's time the four of us talked and try to formulate a plan."

"I want information first," Lara announced, "before any alliances are made."

In the opposite corner of the room, Gunderson scoffed. "Why so bitter? I thought we were letting by-gones be by-gones?"

"We never agreed to anything of the sort," Kurtis interrupted. He closed the door and locked it. "But never mind that…whatever Lara asks, you answer, understood?"

"Kurtis," Lara's voice said behind him. "Put the gun away."

"What gun?"

"That gun," she pointed to his Boran X which he clutched in his hand.

He looked down at where she pointed and smirked. "Oh…_that_ gun!" He holstered it and turned to face her. "Force of habit when potential enemies are around. I'm going to get us some food before we begin." He opened the door and left, gently closing it behind him.

* * *

Kurtis walked into the room, his arms full of food from the hotel's cafeteria. He dropped everything on the table and plopped down in one of the chairs. He opened a soda and took a sip, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "So, Gunderson, what info do you have on Karel?"

"Well, he's crazy," Gunderson answered.

"That's a given," Kurtis retorted. "I want details. What's he doing in Cappadocia?"

Gunderson leaned back in the chair he sat in and rested his arms behind his head. "Something about finding an ancient room so he can awake his 'brothers'."

Kaylay, who had been sitting in silence since her feud with Kurtis earlier, jumped in to the conversation while grabbing a bag of potato chips. "They're not his brothers per se, other Nephilim, just in their true form."

"Awake more Nephilim? How?" Kurtis asked.

"Some…" Gunderson began but was cut off by Kaylay's elbow meeting his stomach. He glared at her, but chose to ignore her actions.

"Karel has access of ancient texts—texts I've never seen nor heard of before—with sacred spells on them. I assume he plans to chant these spells to awake the Nephilim." She sat back on her haunches and looked at Kurtis. "But I don't understand how spells could awake other Nephili. It seems that there's another piece to the puzzle; a piece that I haven't figured out yet."

"In Prague, he said something to me," Kurtis began. "He said that he needed me in the next part of his plan. Have you found anything on what he needs with a Lux member?"

Kaylay shook her head. "No, nothing."

"Well, can you get inside his head?" Kurtis anxiously asked.

"It's not as easy to get inside a Nephilim's mind as you think, Kurtis," Kaylay informed. "They're incapable to get inside…it's like they put some kind of barrier around their mind to keep people from reading it. And as I said earlier, I've just recently started using my powers again—I'm a bit rusty. Besides, if I try, my cover could be blown and he'll know I'm Lux Veritatis. I can't risk that, not now."

"Wait," Lara chimed in. "Karel's a master at mind reading. What makes you think he doesn't already know that you are Lux Veritatis?"

Kaylay smirked. "Because he has no reason to read my mind _or_ do a back ground check on me. I gave him an alias."

"You did more than that," Kurtis stated. "You used your powers on him!"

"Alright! I did!" Kaylay caved. "He may be intimidating, but you'd be amazed how 'persuasive' I can be with people like him." She smirked when she noticed that Lara's brows furrowed in confusion. "I have a gift with words."

"Kaylay was born with a rare talent, something that hadn't been seen in the Lux Veritatis since the 14th Century," Kurtis informed.

"And said talent can help us get the information from Karel that we want," Kaylay smirked again.

"What is this talent?" Lara asked, getting impatient with the sudden change of topic.

"Persuasion," Gunderson jumped in. "Or something along those lines. I'm just guessing here."

Kaylay smiled and a brief giggle emerged from her lips. "You're on the right track. It is something along the lines of persuasion."

"She's a magnificent mind reader, though that doesn't help us in this situation, but she has the ability to foresee the future," Kurtis said taking a bite of a candy bar.

"So, you're psychic then?" Lara assumed.

"Not exactly. It's more complicated than that." Kaylay explained.

"She's a prophet," Kurtis finished. "She could probably sit here and tell you how this whole Karel she-bang is going to turn out in the end." He finished off his candy bar and attempted to open a bag of potato chips, which resulted in the bag popping and the chips flew everywhere. He shrugged and picked them up from the floor and ate them anyway. "Couldn't ya?"

"Kurtis, I'm no prophet," Kaylay stated. "We need to get back on track."

Kurtis set down the bag of potato chips and took a sip of his soda. "Right! Lara, you want info, you ask the questions."

Lara scoffed and leaned forward in her seat. "Do you have any idea what is buried under the sands that Karel wants so badly?"

Kaylay thought this through for a moment. "Well, he's conducting a dig through the tunnels, mainly to dig out the ones that have caved in over the years."

"You said something about a room," Kurtis said. "What kind of room?"

"He doesn't tell me much and if he writes something down, it's in Nephilic text," Kaylay informed. "I have no idea what this room is or if it even exists."

Gunderson poked Kaylay's shoulder. "Tell 'em about the dagger."

"Dagger?" Kurtis questioned. "Karel plus a dagger equals bad news."

"I don't know what its purpose is," Kaylay said, "but I've seen it, and I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of its blade." She reached out her hand and grabbed the half empty bag of potato chips that Kurtis had set down earlier. "You know how most blades are straight? This one is curved, similar to a sickle, but not as round. The handle is made of ivory, dirtied over the years from dust and other grime, and there are carvings on it, Nephilic by the looks of it."

Kurtis looked to Gunderson. "Do you know this 'daggers' purpose?" All he got in response was a shrug of the Scandinavians shoulders. "You're no help."

Lara, who had remained quiet for quite some time, ran a hand over her face and her eyes narrowed in thought. "Well, I say you best find some more answers and I'd say we've got ourselves an alliance."

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**Thanks for the reviews for Chapter Five. I know I've been slacking on this story-- I'll try my best to get the updates to you as soon as I can. -bm16**


	7. Inside Work

AH! I can't believe I forgot to say this for Chapter 6: Special thanks to Chirugal (_This is Business_ and_ The Light of Truth_) for allowing me to briefly mention the name of one of her characters. Thanks Chirugal!

And again, something else I've forgotten to add since I posted this story: **Disclaimer**: I do not own Tomb Raider, Lara Croft, Kurtis Trent, Karel, and Gunderson, or anything else TR related. However, Kaylay is of my own creation and is not related to TR in any way.

Enough chit-chat...Chapter 7. Enjoy!**

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Chapter Seven: Inside Work

Inside the tunnels roamed a few dozen mercenaries, their guns slung over their shoulder or resting on the ground—leaning against the wall—while they held shovels in their hands, digging through the sands that blocked the passage in front of them. They had no idea why they were digging, or what they were digging for; all they knew was that they were getting a paycheck at the end of the day.

"Dude, what are we doing down here?" one man asked the mercenary next to him.

"Have no idea." He answered. "But the blonde guy is pretty adamant about this tunnel being dug out. Damn bastard."

"What is all this talk about?" a deep voice asked behind them.

The mercenaries turned around the face their boss, Marten Gunderson, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his wrinkled eyes narrowed, his mouth pinched tightly. The two men cowered before him, continuing to shovel the sand before them.

"Oh nothing," one said, his voice a bit shaky. If there was one man that he didn't want to cross, it would be Marten Gunderson.

"It didn't sound like nothing," Gunderson informed. He lowered his voice. "Master Karel may be a 'bastard', as you put it so kindly Private Mills, but you will do as he tells you. If you disobey orders, you will deal with me, and that's a confrontation you don't want to happen."

* * *

Meanwhile, Kaylay sat in one of the tents above the tunnels, surrounded by dozens of books, a few scrolls, and a notebook containing Karel's scribbled notes. For the past week she had been drowning herself in these books, absorbing any ounce of information she could get that would help her better understand the Nephilic markings on Karel's dagger. But the art of learning a new text in so little time is impossible—even for someone like Kaylay, who spent the majority of her childhood learning other languages and ancient texts. She was finding it quite difficult to take in the Nephilic texts.

"Damn," she mumbled under her breath. She pulled her brown strands back into a ponytail and continued reading one of the books full of Apocrypha references of the 'fallen ones'. She set it down and picked up a near-by scroll and carefully unrolled it. The paper crinkled as it was expanded from its curled position. The scroll itself was old—the paper had yellowed over the years—and written in Arabic. How Karel gained possession of this scroll, she had no idea, but it contained information that could not be found in any book or heard from any historian.

"It's said that scroll was written by a Nephilim himself," a voice said non-chalantly from behind her.

She turned, lowering her glasses on her nose, and looked up to see Karel standing before her, his arms behind his back. "Oh really?" If it was in fact written by a Nephilim, there would be a chance that she could find some answers in the parchment, answers to the question that had been bothering her for a week: Why does Karel need Kurtis?

"It's a theory," he said, smirking. "How are your readings going?"

Kaylay pulled her glasses off her face and set them down on a near-by table. She rolled the scroll she was reading back up and placed it back in the pile that surrounded her. "It's frustrating, but it's going somewhat well." She looked up from the dusty book covers. "If that theory is correct, that that scroll was written by a Nephilim, wouldn't it be in the Nephilic text instead of Arabic?"

Karel sat down on the chair across from where Kaylay was sprawled out on the floor, and rested his feet on the table in front of him. "Nephilim are disguised in human form, to protect the mortals from being frightened by our 'grotesque' appearance, and to remain undetected as well. Some of us chose to speak and write the language of where we were located. Arabic happened to be one of those languages. It was safer to write stories—history itself—in the Arabic texts in case they were ever found. But the scrolls you see before you have never lain before human eyes. They have been guarded—protected—by a Nephilim. And that particular Nephilim is me." He took a short pause, glancing at the ancient scrolls. "It was my duty to never allow those to enter the hand of a human, because if a human were to read them, the Nephilim would cease to exist."

Kaylay raised an eyebrow. "But the Nephilim already cease to exist."

"This was before the Knights Templar and the damned Lux Veritatis," Karel informed. He stood up and handed Kaylay her glasses. "You should continue reading; you might find something interesting."

Kaylay took her glasses from his hand and placed them back on her face. She figured this would be her chance to ask him what he needs Kurtis for, but decided that this wasn't the right moment and also feared that if she brought it up, it would seem suspicious. And the last thing she wanted was for Karel to figure her out. But curiosity got to her and she couldn't keep from asking. "Back in Prague, you said that you needed the Lux warrior to complete your plan. What do you need the Lux warrior for?"

Karel turned his head and peered over his shoulder at her. "To kill him of course." And with that said, he exited the room, leaving Kaylay alone with a pile of literature.

* * *

Within the last week, Lara and Kurtis had been secretly meeting Kaylay and Gunderson at various locations around town collecting copied documents from Kaylay's research and receiving info on the progress of the tunnel digging from Gunderson. They usually met in the early hours of the morning, to avoid being caught if by chance Karel had spies lurking around the city.

Now they sat in their hotel room, a pile of hand-copied notes from Kaylay covering the bed and the floor, as well as the ratty, old desk in the corner.

Compared to the information Lara had found, the stuff Kaylay had given them was nothing even close to what Lara had come across; the papers she held before her spoke of things she had never heard of before; never knew they existed. Then again, she had never heard of the Nephilim before; maybe she would have if she had paid attention in Sunday school.

On the opposite side of the room, Kurtis was sprawled out on the couch with a pile of papers on his chest. He was snoring softly since he'd been awake for three days straight. It had been difficult for him to sleep after receiving the papers from Kaylay, and then he'd worry all night about his cousin—hoping that Karel wouldn't learn her secrets.

"Kurtis," Lara said from where she sat on the bed. She looked up from the document she held and glared at him. "Kurtis!" He snorted and moved his arm over his eyes and continued to snore, the volume of the nasal sound increasing. Lara lowered the paper and laid it on the bed. She narrowed her eyes and wadded up an empty bag of potato chips and threw it his direction. It hit him in the head, then fell to the floor.

Kurtis stirred, opened his eyes slightly, and glanced down at the bag. "Did you just throw that at me?" He slowly sat up and stretched his arms, the stack on his chest falling to the floor, papers scattering everywhere on the dirty carpet.

"You're snoring," Lara said picking up the paper again.

"That's because I was sleeping," Kurtis yawned. "And now I'm awake. I'm going to get some coffee." He stood up and pulled on his jacket. "Do you want some tea?"

Lara held up a cup and lightly shook it. "Nope."

Kurtis fumbled with the zipper on his jacket and grumbled under his breath as he ripped open the door.

* * *

Kaylay pulled on her coat and walked into Gunderson's tent. He was asleep on the cot; the first time she'd seen him asleep in a week. She felt bad for being there and even worse for having to wake him up. She placed her hand on his shoulder and gently shook him. "Marten?"

He snorted and blinked his eyes open. "What? I was sleeping."

"I know; I'm sorry," Kaylay apologized. She buttoned up her coat. "I have to go see Kurtis. Karel told me what he needs him for. I think Kurtis has a right to know, since he's been worrying about it for a week."

Gunderson sat up and rubbed his eyes. He grabbed his jacket, strapped on his gun, and laced up his combat boots. "What did he say?"

Kaylay looked down at her hands, then back up at Gunderson. "Karel wants to kill him." She paused briefly, and then changed the subject. "It's quite chilly; do you have an extra pair of gloves?" A pair of over-sized gloves landed in her open palm. She glanced at the frayed, scratchy wool gloves and smiled. "Thanks."

Gunderson placed his hands on her shoulders. "Let us go, now."

* * *

Kurtis grumbled as he pulled a Styrofoam cup from the stack on the counter and poured in the warm coffee. It was too cold for him, so he placed it in the microwave for a few minutes as he searched the hotel's lounge for some sugar or creamer. Once the microwave beeped, he still hadn't found the condiments. _I like my coffee black anyway_, he thought, carefully taking the cup out.

He plopped down in a near-by chair and stared at the scratchy TV in the corner. There wasn't anything of importance on, but from what he could tell, it was a news broadcast in Turkish, which was the one language he didn't know.

He cradled the coffee cup in his hands, trying to keep them warm. Even though he was in Turkey—in the desert—it was still winter and quite cool in the evenings, while the days were surprisingly hot.

A cool, gentle breeze swept across the room when the door opened and Kurtis craned his neck to see who had walked in; a couple of tourists in hopes of renting a room for the night walked in and approached the front desk. Kurtis turned back to the TV. He had no intention of returning to the room any time soon—all the research was boring him.

The door flew open again and Kurtis turned to see the newcomers, whom he immediately recognized as his cousin and Gunderson. He took a sip of his coffee. "What are you two doing here? This is unexpected."

Kaylay approached Kurtis and placed her hand on his shoulder. "We need to talk."

* * *

_There was silence…and darkness. Light could not penetrate the sands to the tomb below. Sound was not needed—nothing could have survived the cave-in; 'no one' could have survived the cave-in. _

_On the surface, there was silence. It was empty; no one was near. Everyone had left; abandoned the site without warning. The sun beat down on the sands of the Egyptian desert, lighting up the ruined tomb that now lay in shambles. _

_A hand burst through the sand and limestone blocks, reaching up toward the sun, searching for another hand to grab hold to. Another hand and forearm came up beside it, hoping someone was there. _

_She lay on the sand, bloody and bruised; her clothes tattered and torn; her chest heaving up and down heavily. Her hands were horribly cut; dried blood encrusted upon her skin. Her shirt was almost gone; torn from crawling her way through the rocks of the tomb, in a desperate attempt to find life. _

_She lay on the sand—dying—wishing someone would walk by and find her._

Lara jolted awake, clutching one of the documents in her hand, almost tearing it to shreds. _It was just a dream_, she thought as she breathed in and out, calming herself.

She didn't mean to fall asleep; she had no intention of it, but being in the room by herself, she found herself dozing off while trying to concentrate on the papers Kaylay had given her.

"You okay?" a deep male voice asked from somewhere in the vicinity of the room. "You were screaming in your sleep."

Lara adjusted her eyes to the dim light of the room and saw Kurtis sitting at the end of the bed, a cup of coffee in his hand; behind him stood Kaylay and Gunderson, staring at her in worry. "I'm fine…just fine." It took her a minute to register that Kaylay and Gunderson weren't there when she'd fallen asleep. "What are they doing here?"

Kurtis looked over his shoulder and then back at Lara, meeting her eyes. "They have some info. Apparently it's important."

* * *

Karel peered into Kaylay's tent and noticed she was gone. He turned his back to the structure and grabbed the arm of a guard that was passing by. "Where is Ms. Lewis?"

The guard glared at Karel. "She went to town with Gunderson, Karel, sir."

"Out to town?" Karel asked with suspicion.

"To get some food," the guard replied shakily.

"I did not give them permission to leave camp," Karel said. "If you see them—_when_ you see them—let them know that I want to speak with them."

* * *

Kurtis returned to the room and handed Kaylay a steaming cup of coffee. "The hotel forgot the re-stock the coffee condiments, so it's just plain."

"That's fine. I like my coffee black," she responded taking the hot cup from her cousin and blew on the liquid to cool it off. "I don't know how to put this…"

"Put what? You found some information. That's good news. You've never had problems telling me info before." Kurtis reassured her.

"Well, this one is different," Kaylay said.

Kurtis snorted. "Oh come on. You can tell me. It's not like it's going to upset me or anything."

The entire car ride to the hotel room she had been formulating the conversation in her head; trying to figure out a way she could tell Kurtis calmly. But she couldn't stand the pressure anymore; she cracked under his pushing. "He's going to kill you!"

* * *

Again, thank you for the reviews on the last chapter. I know a bunch of you have been waiting patiently for a Lara/Kurtis hook-up, but it'll require a bit more patience. This story is just getting started. :P -bm16


	8. Revelations

**Chapter Eight: Revelations**

There was a lump in his throat; Kurtis found himself at a loss for words. He tried to say something, but his mouth became suddenly dry and his voice seemed lost.

Lara, picking up on his behavior, stood up from her spot on the bed and walked over to him. She knelt next to where he sat and placed a worried hand on his knee. "Kurtis? Are you okay?" She was answered with a slow nod and noticed that his blue eyes were wide. She turned to Kaylay. "Did he say 'why' he wants Kurtis dead?"

Kaylay shook her head, leaned forward, and placed her coffee on the table between them. "His exact words, when I asked what he needed Kurtis for, were, _to kill him of course_. I continued researching the rest of the day and I couldn't find anything, not even a word, on what a Lux member has to do with this. Then again, it would probably help if I knew exactly what it _was_ Karel's doing!" She looked from Lara to Kurtis and then down at the blackness of her coffee. "I'll do my best to find out, but I think the safest thing to do is to get Kurtis out of the country; maybe you guys should go to your home in London."

"Surrey," Lara corrected. She looked up at Kurtis and gently shook him. He was non-responsive. "I don't think running is the best option. If Karel wants Kurtis, he'll stop at nothing to get him. And if we go to my home, Karel is sure to follow and I couldn't put my household staff in danger. We'll just have to do some extensive research in order to…"

"I already told you, I found nothing. You'd be wasting your time," Kaylay interrupted.

Lara blinked her eyes; her face very stoic. "You have a lot to learn, Ms. DeCombel. For starters, you do _not_ interrupt me. Secondly, I won't be wasting my time. I have my own source of information."

Gunderson returned to the room; more snacks and other refreshments in his arms. "What'd I miss?"

* * *

The next morning Kurtis awoke and shielded his eyes from the sunlight that poured in through the window. He looked around the room and noticed that Lara was no where to be seen and that he was in the bed and not in the couch as he had been for the last week.

The door to the bathroom opened and out came Lara, wrapped in a towel, her hair dripping wet. She jumped when she noticed Kurtis was awake. "Oh, good morning. I figured you were still sleeping."

Kurtis looked her up and down. "What happened last night?"

Lara pulled some clothes from her bag and tucked them under her arm. "You don't remember last night, do you?" He shook his head. "I figured you wouldn't. After Kaylay told you that Karel…you know…you kind of went silent. And then, about an hour later you passed out and hit your head on the coffee table."

Kurtis reached up and touched his forehead and felt a small bump. "So that's why I have a headache. I just assumed I got really drunk."

Lara moved back toward the bathroom. "Well, the swelling _has_ gone down quite a bit. There's some aspirin on the table. I advise you take some. We're leaving in an hour."

"Leaving? Where?" Kurtis asked throwing the covers back and padding across the floor to the table where Lara said there was aspirin.

"To a friend's house," she answered from behind the closed door.

_Oh, a 'friends' house_, Kurtis thought. _I wonder who this 'friend' is. _He opened the bottle and dumped out two, tiny rust-colored tablets and popped them in his mouth and swallowed. He grabbed his head and winced from the pain. "Wait a minute! What about Karel?"

The bathroom door opened again and Lara stepped out, this time fully clothed. "You don't remember? You must've hit your head harder than I thought."

"Lara," Kurtis said authoritatively, "you're avoiding the question."

"I am, aren't I? Say, why don't I go and get you a cup of coffee. I'll ask the manager if he happens to have any condiments."

"Lara," Kurtis was beginning to grow impatient. "What about Karel?"

Lara sat down on the end of the bed and pulled on her combat boots. She sighed as she began to lace them up. "Kaylay was here last night. She received some info from Karel about why he needs you." She continued with the laces on her boots. "She was so worried about you after you passed out; she wanted to stay but I told her she needed to go back to the 'dig' site."

"Lara!" Kurtis said; his voice raised in irritation.

Lara sighed again. She walked over to Kurtis and knelt down in front of him. She placed either hand on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. She didn't know how to tell him; she had hoped that this would be the one thing from the previous night he'd remember. "Karel's going to kill you."

* * *

Kaylay walked into Gunderson's tent and quickly turned back around when she noticed he was without his clothing; just his undergarments. "I am _so_ sorry," she said.

"It's quite alright. That's the problem with these tents—no doors," Gunderson said pulling on his army pants. "So, I'm assuming you got a lecture from Karel as well. Why else would you be here?"

Kaylay turned her head over her shoulder and glanced at him from the corner of her eye to make sure he was decent. When she noticed he had managed to put on some pants, she turned around and approached him. "Actually, I haven't seen Karel since dinner last night. Did he say something to you?"

Gunderson pulled on a button-up shirt—covering up a black tattoo that began on his right shoulder and curved around to his shoulder blade—and adjusted the collar. "He expressively ordered that we 'check-in' with him next time we decide to go _gallivanting_ off to town. He was apparently looking for us last night." He buttoned a few buttons on his shirt. "Why are you here then, if it wasn't to complain about Karel's lecture?"

Kaylay, starting at his right shoulder although it was now covered, blinked her eyes and met his gaze. She took a few steps forward until she was inches from his body, reached out and un-buttoned his shirt, and pulled down the right sleeve. "What's this?" She asked while fingering the tattoo.

Gunderson looked down at his tattoo and then back up at her. "It's just something they slapped on me when I joined the military."

"I've seen this design before," Kaylay informed, taking a closer look.

* * *

A car pulled into a long, bumpy, dusty driveway and stopped in front of a quaint little brown house with a fence—in dire need of repair—circling the perimeter of a beat-up yard in need of new grass. A dog barked through the large gaps between the boards at the car; his snout sticking between the gap, trying to sniff out the visitors.

The door of the house opened and an elderly man, most likely in his early seventies, stood on the door step and crossed his arms, a smile spreading across his sun-weathered face. "Lara? Lara Croft?" he asked, squinting in the sunlight. "Child, it is you!" He approached the woman with his arms spread wide and embraced her in a hug. "You have not visited me in years. My, you've grown." He caught a quick glimpse of Kurtis standing a few feet behind Lara, shuffling his feet in the sand. "Who is your friend?"

Lara peered over her shoulder. "Ahmed, this is Kurtis Trent. I recently met him in Prague."

"Prague? Heavens child! What on earth were you doing there?" Ahmed asked.

"Actually, it was Paris," Kurtis interrupted holding his hand out and gripped Ahmed's, shaking it firmly. He released Lara's friend's hand and whispered close to her ear. "In the Louvre, remember?"

Cutting the small talk short, Ahmed gathered his visitors bags and ushered them inside, pausing on the steps to tell his dog to quiet down before he entered the house.

Once inside, he told Lara and Kurtis to make themselves comfortable as he walked into the kitchen to prepare tea.

"Tea?" Kurtis whispered to Lara. "Do any of your friends drink coffee?"

"Mr. Trent," Ahmed's voice called, "I have coffee grinds. I know you American types prefer coffee to tea."

"That'd be great," Kurtis answered. He looked back to Lara who was pulling the documents Kaylay had given her, as well as some of her own research, from her bag. "Croft, why won't you answer my question?"

"The one that you kept asking me all the way over here?" Lara asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, that one. Why does Karel want me dead?" Kurtis asked for the thousandth time that morning.

"As I already told you…I don't know. We don't have that info. That's why we're here," Lara said.

Ahmed came out of the kitchen with a tray in his hands; two steaming cups of tea and one full of black coffee. He set it down on the table and sat down, folding his hands around the warm cup. "You're here for what, exactly?"

Lara moved some of the documents across the tabletop toward Ahmed. "We encountered a Nephilim by the name of Joachim Karel while in Prague, and we thought we killed him. But he's still alive and he's here, in Cappadocia, plotting to awaken the Sleepers."

Ahmed flipped through the papers, looking up briefly. "And?"

"We need your help. You're the only person I know who knows about this stuff. No one else in the world is remotely intelligent on this subject as you." Lara continued.

Ahmed set the papers down and removed his glasses, setting them down on the table with a quiet clatter. "I know all about the Nephilim, yes, but I never expected one to still be alive. I thought they were an extinct species." He patted the pile of documents that Lara had previously handed him. "This information that you've found, well, it's the basics. Unless this Karel is planning on doing something drastic, I'm not sure if I can help you."

Kurtis, who had been sitting in silence while sipping his coffee, set down the cup and leaned forward in his seat. "Lara just said that he plans on awakening the Sleepers. How is that not drastic?"

"That's basic, Mr. Trent," Ahmed said tapping his index finger against his temple. "Every Nephilim before him has tried the stunt and failed. It's impossible to do. A Nephilim needs a member of the 12th Century order, the Lux Veritatis I believe. The Nephilim could never get a hold of a member; they were well hidden. And from what I've recently read, they no longer exist."

"Ahmed," Lara said resting her hand upon her friends, "Kurtis is the last member of that order. And Karel knows he's alive; he probably knows that Kurtis is here. And, Karel plans to kill him."

Ahmed began laughing and wiped tears from his eyes. "It's not going to happen; it never has, it never will. The best thing for you two to do is to go back home and leave this insane notion set forth by Karel behind you."

Lara and Kurtis exchanged glances. "_Insane notion_? Ahmed, have you gone mad?" Lara asked crossing her arms over her chest and began tapping her foot impatiently.

"I am not mad," Ahmed answered. "I have dedicated my life to researching the Nephilim. Everyone all over the world laughed at me, thought my research was a joke; they believed there was no such thing as the Nephilim. But I believed it, I still do, to a certain degree. I worked hard to be respected in the archaeological world and failed. But I continued my work, my research. Spent many hours in the tunnels digging and digging alone, since no one would work with me or provide me with students. And I found nothing! Nothing! My family abandoned me, my friends left me, the country tried to stick me in a sanitarium. I lost belief." He shook his head, placed his glasses back on, and read one of the papers aloud. "_With this dagger, I thee cut, and with this blood, raise the brothers, the Cubiculi, the lost ones._" He set the paper down. "It explains the ritual, the ritual that never happened. The ritual that _will_ never happen."

Lara leaned forward. "Ahmed, what ritual?"

"The ritual," Ahmed said. "The ritual that awakens the Cubiculi." Lara and Kurtis exchanged looks once again. Ahmed raised a confused eyebrow. "You do not know of the ritual, do you?"

"We haven't even heard of a ritual," Lara informed.

A smile stretched across Ahmed's face. "Alright, I say it's time I crack into the old research and we figure this thing out."

* * *

"What do you mean you've seen it before?" Gunderson asked. "It's nothing of importance. As I said, its something that was slapped on me when I joined the military."

"What kind of military puts this tattoo on their soldiers?" Kaylay asked jabbing her finger into his flesh. "It's Lux."

Gunderson pulled his sleeve back on and looked down at her with an eyebrow raised. "Lux Veritatis? I doubt it."

"Marten, trust me, it is," Kaylay said.

Gunderson buttoned his shirt up again and adjusted the collar. "It's not. This tattoo means nothing, in fact, it's not even finished. I'm not even a member of the Order. It makes no sense why they would slap a Lux tattoo on me."

Kaylay crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest and sighed angrily. "Fine. I'll just prove it to you when we go to the hotel later tonight."

* * *

Ahmed's office was a mess. The desk had a broken leg and in its place where books stacked atop one another. The bookshelves were covered with sheets which at one time were white, but they were now covered in dust and appeared tan. The floor was littered with old newspapers; a couch sat against the wall opposite the desk and was in need of new upholstery. The glass on the window in front of the desk needed to be repaired since there was condensation between the panes, and the trim surrounding the window was in dire need of new paint. Old newspaper articles and pictures covered the paint chipped walls.

"Fired house cleaning?" Kurtis asked, looking at the mess. Lara's elbow met his stomach, causing him to wince from the sharp pain that took over his abdomen.

Ahmed walked over to one of the sheet covered bookcases and gripped the dirtied blanket in his fist, and with one quick tug the sheet fell to the floor, revealing an over-crowded bookshelf full of encyclopedias, notebooks, file folders, and dozens of books.

He ran his fingers along the books and pulled out the thickest and opened it. "I thought I rid myself of my research," he said sitting down on the couch. "I had forgotten I had this book."

Lara bent over; her long braid fell over her shoulder and dangled in the air in front of her, and searched for the title. "There's no title. What book is it?"

Ahmed looked up from the pages; his glasses pushed down to the tip of his nose, and peered at Lara and Kurtis over the rim of the lenses. "It has no name." He looked back down to the pages, flipping them over as quickly as his old fingers could move.

In the meantime, Lara walked around the office, looking at the photos that were on the wall. She immediately noticed that Ahmed was in one of the photos, surrounded by three children, a girl and two boys, and she realized that they must be his children. In another photo a few inches below that one, was Ahmed and an English woman, whom Lara assumed was his late wife.

On another section of the wall were newspaper clippings. As Lara read through them, she realized that they were all articles that newspapers all over the world had written, saying that Ahmed Kahlil was crazy; that his research of the Nephilim was insane and that his work would never amount to anything. And as Lara read the articles, she felt a small pang in her heart and suddenly understood or at least tried to imagine the way society in the 1960's had treated him.

"People didn't like him much, did they?" Kurtis asked keeping his voice low.

Lara nodded. "No, they didn't. I knew he had a hard time in the archaeological world, but I hadn't realized it had been that bad."

"A-ha!" Ahmed's voice called, startling Lara.

She turned and walked back over to where he sat. "Find something?"

Ahmed turned the book around in his hands and held it to where both Lara and Kurtis could see. On one page was an intricate drawing of a circle in the middle of the floor in a rock cave with some sort of markings in the center of the circle. On the other page was writing; hand-written, and in Arabic.

"What is that?" Kurtis asked, pointing to the picture.

"It's the ritual room," Ahmed said, "or, at least what archaeologists think is the ritual room. It's never been seen, let alone found."

Lara took a closer look at the picture. "That looks like a sacrificial pedestal. I've seen ones similar to it in Teotihuacán." She looked up from the drawing and stared at Kurtis, then glanced at Ahmed. "Tell us everything you know about the ritual."

* * *

"Mother of God," one of the workers breathed, dropping his shovel with a loud clank as it collided with the ground beneath him. "We've found it."

Another worker came up behind him, his mouth agape. "What do we do now?"

"We tell Karel that we've found it," the other worker answered.

They turned to leave when a rounded blade came flying through the air and sliced their necks; blood spurted out from their arteries and they fell dead to the ground.

From the shadows, a woman dressed in black stepped out and grabbed the blade from where it hovered in the air. She knelt down next to the two dead guards and checked their pulse, making sure the life was gone from them. She then stood and moved blonde strands from out of her face and peered over her shoulder. "The coast is clear. You can come out now."

* * *

As usual, thank you for the reviews. I've been doing some research lately, and hopefully I'll get more written here soon. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter! -bm16


	9. The Doors

**Chapter Nine: The Doors**

Gunderson ducked behind a rock and pulled Kaylay down with him. "Are you crazy? Guards are everywhere."

Kaylay released her wrist from Gunderson's hand and tied her hair into a ponytail before pulling on her hat. "I don't know why you're complaining; they're under _your_ command."

"True, but they answer to Karel as well. And they've most likely been ordered to tell him if they see us sneaking off." Gunderson answered, peering over the top of the rock; his eyes darted back and forth, mentally counting the number of guards that were blocking their escape. He lowered his head back down and looked at Kaylay. "Any chance you could play with their minds or freeze them?"

Kaylay arched one of her brows. "I'm not a witch. I can't do things that are _that_ supernatural." She quickly scanned the area, checking to see where the guards were standing or patrolling, as well as anything lying around in the area that could be useful. "Although…" She stretched out her hands and lifted a tool box from across the area. It floated through the air and stopped above one of the guards. She took her right hand and slowly turned it clockwise, opening the lid of the box and pulled out a wrench. She then quickly flicked her right wrist, dropping the wrench on the guards head. He grunted and fell to the ground, causing the other guards on patrol to run toward him. As they approached and stood close to their fallen comrade, Kaylay flicked her left wrist, releasing her telekinetic grip on the tool box. The tools fell out upon their heads, and the box dropped back to the ground. "…problem solved." She smirked as she stood up and approached the fallen guards, walking around the pile and continued on to the Jeep.

Gunderson looked from the heap of guards to Kaylay and then back to the guards. He shook his head and let out a small chuckle before he stood and jogged in the direction of the vehicle, a smile on his face.

* * *

"So, this ritual can only be performed during a new moon?" Lara asked closing the book that sat in her lap and set it next to her on the newspaper littered floor of the office. "That's in four weeks." 

"Is there any chance that's wrong?" Kurtis asked. "It could be performed during a full moon."

Ahmed shook his head. "It must be performed during the new moon." He turned a page in his book. "Although, your Nephilim has to find this." He showed the next page to his visitors. "'The Doors'."

Lara raised an eyebrow. "The Doors? They lead into the ritual room?"

Ahmed closed the book. "That's the legend." He sighed and removed his glasses from his weathered face. "I spent ten years looking for those doors. They might not even exist. But if they do, your Nephilim will have to find them first, and then open them. According to my research, behind 'The Doors' is a maze of tunnels, one of which leads to the ritual room. The only problem: finding the right tunnel."

"Would Karel need me to open these doors?" Kurtis asked scanning the words of Ahmed's scribbled notes.

Ahmed shook his head. "No. A Lux member is only needed in the ritual. 'The Doors' can only be opened by a Nephilim. And they can only be opened on a certain day of the year. December 21st."

Kurtis furrowed his brows. "Why that date? That's in a month!"

"December 21st is the winter solstice…the shortest day of the year." Lara answered. "But why only on that date?"

"Because it's the shortest day of the year," Ahmed smiled and opened his book once again. He turned to the page he showed them earlier, the one with the picture of 'The Doors' and read the writings on the opposite page. "_'The Doors': two large doors locked by three circles and can only be opened on the shortest day of the year. If they are opened on any other day, the ritual can not be attempted_." He handed the book to Lara. "I had more on them, but those notes where lost when I threw out some of my research." He paused and put his glasses back on. "From what I can remember, if the doors are opened before or after this date, as the text said, the ritual can not be attempted, because daylight is shorter, and the sun is at its greatest distance from the equatorial plane. There's never been a proven theory of why 'The Doors' have to be opened on that day; probably something the Nephilim wrote down to keep any one else from trying to open them. Either that, or the entire thing is a Middle Eastern myth."

Lara looked up from the book and focused her attention on one of the articles that was placed on the wall: _Local Archaeologist Goes In Search of 'The Doors'_. She furrowed her brows and then looked to Ahmed. "That's why you spent ten years digging in the tunnels; you hoped that if you found the doors you could try and open them." Ahmed nodded as he leaned back on the couch. Lara closed the book she held. "If we can find the doors we could stop Karel from opening them."

* * *

_Mother of God! We've found it!_ He kept hearing the man's voice say in his head over and over. But he didn't feel any pity or regret for what had happened to the two workers. After all, She was just doing her job. 

"The coast is clear. You can come out now." Her voice called to him and he stepped out of the shadows, a cynical smile about his face.

"You're still as sharp as ever, Arianha," he said, stepping over the dead workers and approached two large doors placed between the rocks that stretched out in front of him.

"And you're still as evil as ever, Karel," she answered, wiping the blade of her weapon clean.

Karel stopped in front of the two doors and took off one of his gloves and ran his hand over the middle circle, feeling every detail. "I do hope you have the spell."

Arianha, stepping softly, approached Karel and stopped next to him and pulled a parchment out of thin air. "I am the guardian of these doors, am I not?" She handed him the parchment and smirked. "You do know where the Lux member is, don't you?"

Karel glanced at the parchment, rolled it up, and stuck it in his coat. "Of course." _Soon, _he thought_, soon you will have your glory. You're getting closer; you can feel it_.

* * *

Gunderson opened the door of the Jeep and clambered in, searching the ignition for the keys. "Any chance you could 'summon' the keys?" 

Kaylay smirked as she reached up and opened the visor, pulling the key out and handed it to him. She leaned back in her seat as he started the car and put it in gear, and took off down the road toward the town. "I've noticed Karel hasn't been around much lately."

"He's been spending a lot of time in the tunnels," Gunderson answered. "He was babbling something about 'The Doors'."

Kaylay looked at the profile of his face. "What? 'The Doors'? Are you sure?"

He nodded. "You've heard of them?"

"I had a dream about them a few months ago." She said. "Something bad will happen if he opens them."

* * *

Lara's head shot up from where it rested on the table. She blinked her eyes a few times and locked eyes with Kurtis. "Was that necessary?" 

A smirk spread across Kurtis' face as he leaned back in his chair and plopped his feet up on the table, taking an open book off the tabletop and set it in his lap. "I'd say so. You were starting to drool all over your friends notes." He took a sip of coffee from the cup in his hand and then set it down carefully, watching Lara and took warning of the way her eyes were narrowing at him. "Oh com'on, it was just a little pinch."

The door to the kitchen swung open and Ahmed crossed the threshold carrying a pot of coffee and set it down on the table; Kurtis instantly grabbed the pot and filled his cup back up with the coffee and smiled as he rubbed the cup between his hands.

"Lara," Ahmed said, "you look tired, child. I'll go fix up the guest room while you two clean off my table." He turned and slowly climbed the stairs; the steps creaking underneath him.

Lara picked the coffee pot off the table and grabbed some empty mugs with her free hand, then kicked Kurtis in the shin before she turned toward the kitchen.

* * *

Karel ran his hand across the old, perfectly preserved wood of the two giant doors that obstructed his path. He slowly spoke as he walked the distance between to two corners of the doorway, his hand brushing the wood. His words could not be understood by anyone but him; not even the guardian of 'The Doors' could fully understand him. 

The guardian, Arianha, sat on the sanded floor, her back leaning against the rock wall, and her animal-skin booted legs stretched out in front of her. In one hand she held a rag that was slowly wiping the blood off of the blade of her rounded weapon in the other hand. She yawned while cleaning the blade and eventually set the items down and picked up the parchment next to her on the ground.

"Would you stop pacing?" she demanded. "It's annoying."

Karel stopped mid-step and glanced over his shoulder; his chanting stopped. "I'm sorry that I _bore_ you." He turned and approached Arianha, took her hand, and pulled her off the ground, meeting her eyes, their faces only inches apart. "The parchment?"

She slapped the aged paper into his open palm, making sure to keep her eyes locked onto his. "You don't scare me. You never did." She took a step back, only to be pulled back into his body by his strong hand that gripped her arm. "I didn't come to your time to be harassed; I came to open those damned doors."

"I brought you here," Karel whispered inches from her lips, "and I can send you back just as easily."

Arianha could feel the warmth of his breath on the skin above her lip and resisted the temptation to kiss him; instead she pushed old memories to the back of her mind and focused on the situation in front of her. "You can't hurt me. I'm already dead."

"In my time, yes; in your time, you are very much alive. And I have brought the living you here. I can't kill you. If I do, I change the present." Karel informed, slowly moving closer to her. "Unfortunately, I can't keep you here—in this time—forever." His lips gently brushed against hers, but she pushed him away.

"No. You can't just kiss me. You lost that right centuries ago." Arianha reminded as she held her palm down to the ground and her weapon leapt up to her. She sheathed it as she turned to walk away. "I'm going to bed; it's tiring traveling to the future."

* * *

"What's going to happen?' Gunderson asked turning his head to the side slightly, but keeping an eye on the road in front of him. 

Kaylay shook her head. "I didn't pay much attention to the dream; I figured it wasn't anything important. Most of it is a blur now, but all I can remember is seeing a woman pointing a gun at Karel and the next moment she was being thrown through the air and into a wall; when she landed she was unconscious. I didn't see her face, but she has to be important. If she was trying to stop Karel, that means he's up to something that he's not telling us."

Gunderson slowed the car until it came to a stop outside the hotel where Lara and Kurtis had been staying the past few weeks. "Maybe the woman in your dream was Croft? It seems plausible; she is here to see what Karel's up to."

"Maybe," Kaylay answered, considering his words. She placed her hand on the door handle and pulled it toward her opening the door, and she hopped out of the vehicle. She walked around the front of the car and met with Gunderson as he was closing his door. She touched his arm lightly. "We'll worry about it later. Right now we need answers about that tattoo of yours."

* * *

"There's only one bed," Lara said as she closed the door of the guest room and set her bag down on the dusty, discolored, and cracked hardwood floor. 

"And it's very small," Kurtis finished, unbuttoning his shirt. "I'll sleep on the floor." He took off his shirt and draped it over the back of the chair that sat in a corner of the room. He tugged on the fabric of the torn wife-beater tank he had on under his other shirt.

Lara sighed and met his eyes. "No you won't; it's filthy."

He approached her and looked down at her, his bangs fell out of place and dropped into his eyes. "I've slept in worse." He placed a hand on the small of her back and gently pulled her closer to him. With the other hand, he swept a loose piece of hair back behind her ear and allowed his fingers to linger a bit as they brushed the side of her face before he placed them under her chin, lifted her head, and pressed his lips against hers.

* * *

"What do you mean they're gone?" Kaylay asked resting her elbows on the counter, her eyes glaring at the manager. 

"Exactly that…they're gone," the man behind the counter said, "and they've been gone all day."

Kaylay sighed angrily and leaned over the counter and grabbed the collar of the man's shirt. "You got an extra key?" In fear for his life, the man pulled himself out of Kaylay's grip and grabbed a key off the hook on the wall behind him and handed it to her without hesitation. "Thank you!" Kaylay said taking the key forcefully.

"You know, you didn't have to be so mean," Gunderson said as they walked up the stairs.

"He wasn't giving me any answers," she snapped. "I would like to know where my cousin has run off to." They stopped in front of the room and unlocked the door. Once inside, they noticed that the room had been cleared of all belongings, including the papers she had given them. "Now why would they take their stuff, but not check out of the room?"

"A decoy, probably," Gunderson suggested as he checked the bathroom to make sure Lara and Kurtis didn't hide any of their stuff in there. "Empty."

Kaylay closed the door and leaned against it, dropping the key to the floor below her. She shook her head and cast her eyes down at her feet. _Kurtis, where are you_? She thought, but her thoughts were interrupted as Gunderson approached her. "What?"

"Shh…" he said, placing a hand behind her head and ran the other down her arm and pulled her into his body; he grabbed her hair in his hand and pulled, causing her to lift her head and he brushed his lips against hers. "Shh…" he whispered against her lips before he touched them with his, and slowly hardened the kiss.

* * *

"Gotcha," a man said as he lowered a pair of night vision binoculars. "I knew there was something strange going on between you two." He scribbled something down in a notepad that was open on the rooftop next to him. He then picked up a case and put the binoculars in and stood up, gathering the rest of his belongings. "I know someone who will be very pleased to hear of your betrayal, Marten."

* * *

"Whoa!" Lara said pushing Kurtis away from her. "That is the second time you've kissed me, and I have to say—it's false." 

Kurtis ran a hand threw his hair and raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"The date—it's not real. It's a hoax." Lara said grabbing Werner's notebook and opened it up to a page with her scribbled notes. "There was something 'off' about the whole can't-open-the-doors-until-this-date story. What's today's date?"

"November 23rd; very early in the morning," Kurtis answered. "Why?"

Lara began pacing the room; her eyes narrowed in thought. "There's an eclipse today. I have a hunch. What if 'The Doors' can only be opened during an eclipse? That would explain the fake date, because we never know when there _is_ going to be an eclipse, unless you watch TV, and Karel doesn't strike me as the type who does."

"Lara, you've totally lost me," Kurtis yawned.

* * *

Karel draped his leather jacket over the back of a desk chair in his tent. He sighed as he removed his gloves, then his scarf. It had been a long day, and he had a feeling it wasn't over yet. Even though it was three in the morning of November 23rd, he still had nineteen hours before he could continue with his plan, but he first had to patch the problems he was currently having with Arianha. 

She was the keeper—the guardian—of the doors, and in this century, no matter how hard he tried, there was no way he could manage to open those doors on his own. So, with nineteen hours left, he sat down on the bed (he didn't even think of sleeping) and began thinking of how he could get Arianha to cooperate with him.

But his thoughts were interrupted when one of the guards appeared at the door of his tent. "Master Karel," the guard said, staying outside until he had permission to enter.

"Yes?" Karel questioned standing up and quickly put his jacket back on—he didn't care to be seen without his jacket—and gave the guard permission to enter.

The guard handed him a small notebook and a digital camera. "I did as you told—I followed them—and found out what you were suspicious of."

Karel flipped through the notebook, glancing over the chicken scratched notes, and then closed the pad and slipped it into his coat pocket. "So they _are_ more than just friends." He set the camera down on his desk. "Thank you for your services." Before the guard could say anything in return, he screamed as he was engulfed in bright green flames; a pile of ash now rested where he had stood a few moments earlier.

* * *

Kaylay jolted awake and gasped; the sheets around her were drenched and she was covered in a cold sweat. Her brown hair was soaked and it clung to her neck; tears had formed in her eyes and began to run down her cheeks. Her breathing was heavy, and she felt a slight throb in her head. 

"What's wrong?" a concerned voice asked from beside her.

It took her a moment before she remembered where she was—in Kurtis and Lara's hotel room—with Gunderson.

"Nothing," she answered. "I'm fine." _Liar_, she thought to herself.

"You don't seem fine," Gunderson said sitting up in the bed. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his body, then embraced her in a hug from behind. "You're cold." He went to stroke her hair and felt that it was drenched in sweat. "What did you see?"

Kaylay hesitated to answer. Her eyes darted across the dark room as the gears in her head started turning as she tried to formulate an answer. "I saw pain—lots of pain. And sorrow. And then I saw Karel, laughing with pleasure at the destruction he caused, a dagger in his hand, blood dripping from the blade and collecting in a small pool on the floor in front of his feet. And then there was you—you were laying in a corner of a cave, still and lifeless."

* * *

Around seven-thirty that morning, there was a gentle knock on the door to the guest room. Lara, who was sitting in the chair—which she had moved over to the window—looked up from her notebook and saw Ahmed's face poke through the crack of the door. 

"Hungry?" he mouthed. Lara nodded. He motioned for her to come to the door. She did so. "Don't bother waking Mr. Trent, there's enough for both of you. Let him sleep…he needs it."

Lara walked out of the room and closed the door quietly behind her. She hadn't been able to sleep that night; her mind kept thinking about 'The Doors' and the Nephilic ritual. Plus, she had been entranced by watching Kurtis sleep. He just looked so carefree and peaceful.

Once in the dining room, she saw that Ahmed had been busy that morning. Pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, English muffins, and fresh squeezed orange juice were placed in the middle of the small, round table. The chinaware was quite plain—white with a gold trim—but it would do just fine for breakfast.

"I do hope you slept well," Ahmed said, waiting for Lara to take a seat at the table before he sat down.

"Actually I didn't," Lara informed. "I kept thinking about the date."

"The date?" Ahmed thought aloud. "Oh, yes, yes. That date."

"I have reason to believe that it's false," Lara stated. "I thought, what if it's just something the Nephilim created to keep others from trying to open 'The Doors'? It would make sense, since no one has succeeded in opening them."

"That's because no one has ever found them," Ahmed reminded. "Not even me."

"True. And I considered this. Maybe no one was able to find them because the Nephilim hid them well."

The stairs creaked behind them. Lara turned and saw Kurtis standing on the first landing. His face was covered in worry. "Lara," he said. "We have a problem."

* * *

Six-thirty that evening—three hours and twenty-nine minutes before the eclipse—Lara and Kurtis sped through the desert of Cappadocia from Ahmed's house back to the town. They had been on the road for an hour and a half already, and it would take them at least another hour before they would make it to the city. 

That morning, Kurtis had come downstairs, looking a bit worried. He had received a call from his cousin—a telepathic call—that something bad was going to happen; that they needed to get back to the hotel as soon as possible.

Lara wanted to leave for the town the instant Kurtis had told her of this, but he insisted that they hold off for a bit. For the rest of the afternoon, Kurtis had tried to contact Kaylay with his farsee abilities, but the distance was far too great for him to find her before he tired and collapsed to the floor from exertion. So he had to rest and build his strength back up before they could leave.

"What exactly did she say?" Lara asked, for the third time since that morning.

"I told you, she didn't say anything, she sent me a dream she had," Kurtis said.

"She can do that?" Lara questioned. "I thought all Lux Veritatis members had the same powers."

Kurtis nodded in partial agreement. "In most cases, that's true. Many Lux members have the same powers, but every once in awhile a member who holds the powers the ancients held, is born. In all of Lux history, there were only two—Kaylay and her brother, Kevin. But Kevin died in his initiation, so there's just Kaylay. And her powers haven't been seen since the 14th Century. They're very rare, and when we were growing up, there wasn't anyone around who knew how to teach her of her powers, so she had to learn to control them on her own."

"What does this mean, exactly?" Lara asked, taking a quick glance at Kurtis before turning her attention back to the sandy road in front of her.

"What does what mean?"

"Her powers—they must be special," Lara continued.

"They are," Kurtis said. "In the beginning, all of the members held the same powers: telekinesis, telepathy, persuasion, premonitions, farsee, etc. But as the Lux grew and new generations were brought into the world, the powers began to lessen among newer members. Simply put, each generation had one less power than the creators. For example, if you were the son of one of the original members, you could have all of the powers except for telepathy. Something along those lines. So the powers continued decreasing.

"Then, when Kevin was born, at an early age, he started to show signs of these ancient powers. Two years later, Kaylay came along, and almost instantly starting showing the same signs as her brother. It was then that my father realized that his niece and nephew were 'the lost prophecy'."

"'The lost prophecy'?" Lara asked, an eyebrow rose in slight confusion.

"In the 14th Century, Richard de Guilhelm, a Lux Veritatis priest, held these powers. On his death bed, he made a promise that he would be back, that his powers would be seen again in this earth in six-hundred years time. When he died, his fellow priests created the prophecy…"

_In six-hundred years time, a source of great evil will be unleashed upon the Earth and raise the three strongest Cubiculum Nephili, and allow them to unleash their powers throughout the land of men._

_The Light of Truth will slowly diminish, almost non-existent, and good will not be left to fight these creatures. But in six-hundred years time, two children shall be born, and they shall hold the reincarnated powers of Guilhelm, and they will survive any attacks that come to the Light of Truth. They will forget of their powers when they come of age—they will be protected—safe—from any evil that shall come in their future. _

_In six-hundred years time, they will embrace their powers and join together to rid the Earth of the evil that shall rise, and the world will be safe_.

"…of course, this was a hundred years, give or take, before the Lux Veritatis battled Eckhardt and imprisoned him. But the priests were smart—they foresaw the entire Nephilim rising before it even happened. They must have seen Eckhardt escaping in the 1940's as well, because there are texts that speak of him as well, a hundred years before we even trapped him."

Lara eased the car to a stop and she turned in her seat so she could face Kurtis. "Wait, you're telling me that Karel is going to wake the Sleepers?"

"That's what the prophecy says,"

"So, this 'prophecy' is basically saying that your cousin is the one and only person who can prevent this from happening?"

"No," Kurtis said. "It will happen. She just has to stop it."

Lara threw the car back into gear and continued on down the road. "But, it says that two are needed to do this. Didn't you say that her brother died?"

"Yes," Kurtis said. "That's why I'm thinking, that maybe I can use my abilities and try to tap into her powers. That way, I can absorb some of them and help her; therefore, the prophecy will play out as it was seen in the 14th Century."

Lara kept her eyes in front as they continued speeding through the desert road, bouncing on every bump that lay in their way. "You've got to be joking. That sounds impossible."

Kurtis laughed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Actually, it's not. I've done it before. The only problem: I need a certain manuscript in order to do it. And there is no way I go to Utah and get back here in enough time."

"Utah, you say?" Lara questioned, a smirk rising from her lips. "I think I know someone who can help."

* * *

Kaylay paced back and forth across the room, occasionally fiddling with the braids in her hair. She had been uneasy ever since she tried to contact Kurtis that morning and she had no idea if her message went through. She had tried numerous times throughout the day to try and send the message to him again, but she had tired herself out the first time and was still too weak. 

The door opened and she paused, turning her head quickly, hoping to see Kurtis walk through the door. But it was only Gunderson—he had a paper and some food in his hands.

"Sorry," he said, "but I thought you might be hungry." He set the food down on the coffee table and sat down on the couch. "Any sign of Kurtis?"

Kaylay shook her head as she picked up a bag of chips and then continued pacing. "Not even a phone call. I'm beginning to wonder if he even got my message at all."

"Do you want to try again?" Gunderson asked, standing up and walking toward her. He grabbed her shoulders and steadied her, to keep her from pacing.

She shook her head and removed her glasses. "I tried. I'm still too weak from this morning. It seems like sending the message drained my powers."

There was a loud noise in the hall, and the door burst open, flying off its hinges. Mercenaries ran into the room, pointing their guns at Gunderson and Kaylay. Then, in walked Karel. He carried a manila folder in one of his hands and threw it down on the ground at their feet. Pictures spilled out—pictures of them sneaking into the hotel, giving Lara and Kurtis the documents, and their escapade last night—were revealed in front of them.

"So," Karel said, "this is how you re-pay me?" He gestured to the pictures and then turned his stern face toward Gunderson. Then, one of the mercenaries in the room became surrounded by green flame, and he quickly disappeared—turned into ash. "Now, where was I?" He looked from Gunderson to Kaylay, and then back to Gunderson again. He approached Gunderson and pulled a small dagger from the inside of his coat, and in one swift motion, shoved the blade through Gunderson.

He gasped—his gray-blue eyes grew large—and grabbed Karel's shoulder, a pained look upon his face. He gasped for air once Karel retracted the blade, and then fell to the floor, his hand covering the stab in his stomach.

"You bastard!" Kaylay screamed, trying to run over to Gunderson as he lay on the floor—blood flowing from his wound and staining the carpet beneath him—but she was forcefully held back by one of the mercenary's strong grip on her arm. "This is not how it was supposed to happen!"

Karel's lips curled into a malevolent smile, and he wiped the blade clean on the sleeve of his jacket. "Time to go."

"NO!" Kaylay protested as she was dragged from the room. She trashed in the arms of the mercenary, trying to escape, but he was too strong. "Let me go!"

The door to the hotel room was lifted off the ground, re-hinged, and closed shut behind Karel, and he approached Kaylay. "No need to fret. He was traitor; he had this coming."

As they walked down the hall, she was so angry she didn't think that crying was possible. But as they exited the hotel, a tear collected in the corner of her eye, and slowly fell down her cheek.

* * *

Kurtis arched an eyebrow. "Really?" 

"Yes," Lara responded, picking up her cell phone. "I have connections." She punched in a series of numbers and listened for ringing on the other end. It rang twice before someone answered.

"Croft Manor," a voice said.

"Hillary," Lara said, "hand the phone to Bryce; I have a job for him."

A moment later, Bryce's voice came over the line. "What mess have you gotten yourself into this time?"

Lara chuckled. "I need you to go to the states. There's something there I need. Here, talk to Kurtis."

"Who's Kurtis?" Bryce asked, but Lara had already handed the phone off to Kurtis, who stared at it confusingly. "Hello? Hello, Lara? Lara, are you there?"

"Uh…" Kurtis said into the phone. "She's driving."

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Bryce asked, demanding.

"Um…Kurtis," he replied. "I'm a friend of Lara's. Listen, you need to go to Utah—the Salt Flats—to my fathers old house. In the library, there will be a shelf full of old books. These books are just a decoy. Knock them out of the way to reveal a long box. There will be scrolls inside the box. Do _not_ mess with them. Once you find them, bring the box to Cappadocia." He handed the phone back to Lara.

"Did you get all that?" Lara asked, swerving to the side of the road to avoid a huge hole.

"Um, yeah," Bryce answered. "What do you need these 'scrolls' for anyway?"

"Ask questions later," Lara said. "Right now, I need you to get on the jet and get there as soon as you can. We will meet you at the airport in Cappadocia tomorrow afternoon. This is important, Bryce. I trust you with this." And with that, she clicked the phone off and continued toward the city.

"Are you sure he'll be here in time?" Kurtis questioned, leaning the seat back.

"I'm sure,"

The Jeep bounced up and down on the road, and then it stopped as they hit the pavement. Within minutes, they pulled up in front of the hotel. Lara jumped out and started toward the door, and Kurtis headed around the back of the hotel to make sure his motorbike was still there.

Lara ran past the main desk and jogged up the stairs. When she reached the room, the door was locked and she realized that they had turned their keys in the day before. With all her strength, she kicked the door and it fell to the floor with a crash. The room was dark, which surprised her. If Kaylay and Gunderson where there, wouldn't the lights be on? _Maybe they left_, Lara thought as she turned on the lamp that sat on the near-by desk. She scanned the room and gasped at the sight of a body lying on the floor surrounded by a blood stained carpet.

"Oh my god," she said just as Kurtis ran through the door. He froze immediately when he saw the body on the floor.

"Can you do anything?" Lara asked, bending down next to the body, soon realizing that it was Gunderson. Kurtis shook his head. "What do you mean you can't?! You healed yourself in the hospital!"

Kurtis knelt beside her. "That's different—I can partially heal myself, but not others. It doesn't work that way."

"Then we need to get him to a hospital, now." Lara ordered, helping Kurtis lift Gunderson. "Marten, can you hear me?" There was no answer. _Damn_, she thought. _We may have already lost him_.

* * *

"Ah, you found her," Arianha said, standing up from her seat in Karel's tent. 

The mercenary that had hold of Kaylay released her and threw her into the room; she fell forward toward the ground, and held out her arms to brace herself as she landed. Karel walked in behind her, a pair of handcuffs in his hand.

He knelt down next to Kaylay, took hold of one of her hands, and hooked one of the cuffs around her wrist, attaching the other cuff to the bed post. "I can't risk having you run off again, let alone trying to stop me tonight." He stood up, grabbed a parchment from the desk, and gestured for Arianha to follow him. "I have doors to open." And he exited the tent, his female friend from the past close behind him.

* * *

Gunderson had been out of surgery for an hour—there was thirty minutes until the eclipse. The doctors had told them that they didn't think it would be wise for him to have any visitors, since he was still weak and it was painful for him to talk, but Lara and Kurtis went into his room anyway. 

"Caves," Gunderson managed to say. "Must…caves."

Lara sat down on the side of the bed. "What happened, Marten?"

"Karel…took," Gunderson said slowly. "Kaylay…caves. Must. Go. Caves."

Lara looked up at Kurtis, her eyes narrowed in confusion. Kurtis thought for a moment, and then his blue eyes instantly became wide. "The message. Lara, we need to get to the caves now. Karel's going to open 'The Doors'."

* * *

Two large doors spread across the space between the rock walls of the caves. They had been there for centuries and hadn't been opened in thousands of years. Three large circles ran down the center of the doors, a type of lock or old fashioned security system. 

Karel approached the giant doors, with the curved dagger in his hand. He pulled up his sleeve. He took a deep breath, and his skin transformed to a dull gray—all color lost—and various markings covered his face and the rest of his body. The azure of his eyes had disappeared and had been replaced with black circles. His blonde hair faded to a pale gray, almost white. He pressed the dagger to the skin on his arm, and applied pressure, cutting a slit into the skin. Blood covered the edge of the blade, and he turned the blade over, bathing it in his own blood. Then, almost as soon as the cut appeared, it sealed up, leaving no trace that it was ever there.

Karel stepped forward and placed the blood soaked dagger into a small slot in the middle of the center circle. He then pulled the parchment from the inside of his coat, unrolled it, and read the Nephilic spell aloud, in words no one else would understand. As he did so, Arianha stepped forward, turned the blade counterclockwise, and then stepped back, chanting the same spell in Arabic. The dagger continued to twist in the slot on its own until a loud click sounded and it stopped. There was a brief moment of silence—both of them ceased their chanting—and the doors creaked loudly. The circles split down the center sending a cloud of dust into the air, and the doors slowly swung backward until they stopped—a reverberating thud shook the area around them as the doors hit the rock behind it. At last, after nearly three-thousand years, 'The Doors' had been opened once again.

* * *

Lara and Kurtis rounded the corner in a dark, sandy tunnel. But they were too late. Karel had already opened 'The Doors', and there was nothing they could do. 

The woman that was with Karel turned her head and glanced over her shoulder, scanning the room behind her. As she did so, Lara quietly pulled one of her 9mm pistols from its holster, but the woman must have heard the click of the hammer, because she sent a circular blade flying in their direction.

"Look out!" Kurtis shouted as he hurled himself at Lara, tackling her to the ground. He looked up, and saw the blade circling around again, this time aiming for him.

* * *

**Mwahaha! Cliff hanger!  
****Sorry about the length of this chapter. So far it's the longest one with the most information in it. -bm16**


	10. Katpatuka

YAY! I finally updated after 9 months. I wasn't happy with this chapter and it took me forever to finish it. So, here it is. The Karel chapter...with lots of flashback. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Katpatuka**

Three Days Earlier

Karel paced back and forth in his tent. _She found the scroll_, he thought. _This could cause some problems._

Earlier that day, he had stumbled across Kaylay researching in various books and scrolls, and the scroll he referred to was the most important one he owned—it contained a spell to send a Nephilim back through time, and it was only to be used in dire situations.

But he had a problem: the workers were getting closer to uncovering 'The Doors' and once they were revealed, he couldn't have mindless workers snooping around. Also, 'The Doors' were locked—as they had been for the last three thousand years—and he could only open them with the guardian present. The only problem with this was, he killed the guardian shortly before the locks were built on the doors. And he wouldn't be able to succeed in opening them without the last guardian present, but the last thing he wanted was to have this 'protector' around.

He sighed and sat down heavily on the bed, contemplating what to do. He needed to get the scroll away from Kaylay—true, she didn't know how to read the Nephilic text, but he knew she would find away. She struck her as the type that wouldn't give up on a task, and that meant he had to work at keeping her curiosity level at a minimum—answer any questions she may have and make sure he doesn't do or say anything that would warrant more. Karel stood and began pacing the tent; one hand stroked his chin as he thought of a solution to his current situation.

* * *

Late that night, once everyone—with the exception of a few guards who were standing watch—had gone to bed, Karel emerged from the shadows behind the tents and approached the entrance to Kaylay's tent. One of the guards that were standing watch noticed him and lifted his gun, but Karel simply raised a hand and waved the guard off.

He kicked off his shoes and pulled back the cloth door and stepped inside.

He expected it to be dark inside the tent, but to his surprise, there was a candle next to the cot, burning softly. The flame flickered for a moment and then resumed a steady burn. Karel looked from the candle to the cot where Kaylay was asleep, the blankets pushed down to her waist, and book lying open on her stomach, glasses on her face. He gently lifted the book and closed it, setting it down on the small table next to the cot. Then, he carefully removed her glasses, placing them atop the book before he continued his search.

* * *

After returning to his tent, Karel knelt beside the cot that served as his bed and pulled an old briefcase out from underneath the mattress. The fabric on the case was torn at the corners, exposing the plastic underneath. He set it on top of the perfectly made linens and flipped open the latch. He placed his hands on either side of the cases lid and lifted the top, revealing a case full of tall white candles and intricate incense holders, along with ornately carved candle sticks.

Karel gently removed the items from the case—handling them delicately as if they were thousands of years old—and rested them atop the bed linens. He gathered the candle sticks and placed them in a circle on the ground around his favorite Persian rug. Then he retrieved the candles from the bed and placed them atop the candle sticks.

He then placed the two incense holders at opposite sides of the circle, and inserted a stick. Once everything was in its proper position, he lifted his index finger in the air slightly and all six candles lit with a green flame, then slowly burned orange.

Karel pulled the scroll from the inside of his coat and unrolled it; his deep, secret-baring blue eyes moving back and forth across the old, wrinkled manuscript.

He began to read aloud, hesitant at first as if he almost wanting to forget his entire plan, and then—with a deep breath—he continued on again.

The flame of the candles began to flicker, slowly at first and then gradually picked up speed. A breeze of air ran through the room, expelling the candle flames. Smoke rose into the air and surrounded Karel. He was soon surrounded in complete darkness, and began to wonder if the spell had worked. As if in answer to his question, a bright white light exploded throughout the tent nearly blinding him. He shielded his eyes from the blinding light and when he opened them again, he found himself surrounded by rock walls and sand around his feet. He took in his surroundings; he had to be in the tunnels—that was the only place in this remote desert that was fully surround in rock. _Maybe it backfired?_ He thought, taking a peek around the wall nearest him. To his surprise, the spell had worked.

* * *

Asia Minor, 480 BC

There before him, in the distance, stood 'The Doors' in perfect condition, as they should be considering that they were only two dozen years old. They were open and people—no, Nephilim, and in their true form—passed over the threshold. The tunnels, back in this time, were more than mazes connecting to the sacrificial chamber (the twists and turns as well as the chamber were added during the 12th Century). They were the housing for the Nephilim—or the ones who chose not to take human form and blend in with the 'Children of God'.

And there _she_ stood, off to the side of the right door, her composite bow resting against the wall, the pack of arrows slung over her shoulder. And on her hip was her disc—an ancient weapon used only by those who could wield it, or those that held special abilities. This weapon could do more damage to the human body than any other weapon ever created.

Karel closed his eyes at the sight of her; her long flowing blonde hair rolled over her shoulders and her green eyes sparkle with the same passion he had remembered for centuries. This was the first time he'd seen Arianha since that fateful day many years ago.

480 BC

_He breathed heavily and rolled over onto his side, running his hands over her soft, warm skin. He kissed her neck as she stirred from peaceful sleep._

_"Good morning," he said, a smile stretching across his face. For once in his life, he was happy, and he didn't want that happiness to end._

_She rolled over and linked her hand in his, as his other ran slowly through her hair. "I can't believe you're leaving today. What will I ever do without you?"_

_He kissed her forehead then rolled out of the bed and quickly dressed in his armor—he thought it absolutely unnecessary that he was forced to wear such ridiculous items in war. Humans were just weak. _

_"Your job." He returned to the bed and kissed her once more before he left, picking up his sword by the door before walking out and leaving her there._

479 BC

_Xerxes was a fool to ever think that he could defeat the Greek—Joachim had told him that; told him he was a fool just like his father before him. He warned the king of Persia that they wouldn't make it through Thermopylae in one piece—going into battle there was a suicide mission. He informed Xerxes that they should go around the valley, but the king was too stubborn to listen and half of his army was slaughtered by 300 Spartans. _10,000_ against 300. And that was nearly a year ago._

_Despite the loss of half of the army, nevertheless, Xerxes had them push on through the lands of Greece, and Joachim had grown tired of the foolish mans ideas and assumed he must have a death wish. The naval battle at Salamis—even though it was only a month after Thermopylae—was his last straw. After the Greek victory, he turned his back on the army and the bloodshed. But his leaving the army wasn't taken gently. They refused to let him leave—so he stayed and spent a year fighting and killing. And never did he come out of a battle with a scratch on him._

_"You'll be branded a coward!" Xerxes had threatened. "The journey back alone with kill you. If not, I surely will!"_

_"Then kill me now!" Joachim snapped, tearing the straps of his breastplate as he torn the loathed armor off his chest._

_The king looked at him in astonishment, but pulled his sword from its sheath. "You are a brave man; it'll be a shame to see you die." And he lunged forward, his blade penetrating Joachim's abdomen and exited through his back. He quickly removed the blade, and stepped back—with a cynical smirk about his face—to watch Joachim die a slow, painful death._

_To his amazement, Joachim did not fall. The wound, bleeding profusely at first, had slowed to a steady flow before stopping completely. The king watched in horror as the fatal wound began to heal—a scab quickly forming before his eye until the wound disappeared completely, not even a scar was left behind on Joachim's flesh._

_"What _are_ you?" Xerxes breathed; his eye wide with horror._

_"I'm no man," Joachim said, his fist meeting the kings face with such unbelievable force, his body was sent flying across the cabin into a wall. The king slumped down onto the floor, blood running from his broken nose._

_"Mortals," Joachim said with distaste as he picked up his armor and exited the cabin to prepare for his journey home._

479 BC

_Within a few weeks time—a trip that should've taken him months—Joachim found himself back in the small region of Cappadocia. _

_He had been gone for close to two years, and now that he was back, he would soon wed Arianha. He would then try to find a way to make her immortal so she could be with him forever, and he could finally put his past—all the wars he fought, people he killed, sinister things he'd done—behind him._

_His home, a small little house made of clay brick, looked the exact same as it had when he left it so long ago. He rushed through the door, dropping his armor and supplies to the floor as he walked through the house. As he made his way to the bedroom, he saw something shiny out of the corner of his eye—something that was in an odd spot. He stopped and knelt down beside the item: a sword. One he had never seen before and knew it wasn't any of his._

_Feeling his heart rate quicken and trying to push what he was thinking to the back of his mind, he walked into the bedroom and witnessed the worst. Arianha in bed with another man._

_Joachim was fuming. His heart was beating so fast he was surprised it couldn't be heard. He clenched his hands into fist, the hand holding the sword gripped the handle, wanting to use it to kill both of them._

_"What is this?!" He asked his voice loud and demanding._

_Surprised, Arianha covered her naked body—embarrassed, ashamed, and guilty. She did not—could _not_—meet Joachim's eyes._

_"Don't look down," Joachim said. "Look at me." But she was still looking down at the sheets covering her, her face shielded by her hair, hiding from his accusatory eyes. "Look at me!" His hold on the sword tightened and his eyes turned to the man lying next to Arianha. He pointed at the man with the end of the sword. "Come here."_

_"Joachim," Arianha whispered looking up at him, shaking her head slowly from side to side. "Don't. Don't do this."_

_"It's too late for pleading now," he said keeping his eyes fixed on the other man as he crawled from beneath the bed covers._

_As the darkly tanned man knelt over to grab his kilt, Joachim took the time to memorize every feature of the man that his girl deemed worthy to have a secret affair with while he was gone. Scars desecrated his body—possibly from his days on the battle field—his hair short and dark like his skin; his muscles rippled with every small motion._

_"Take your sword," Joachim said handing it to the man. He waited for the man to accept it before drawing his own blade, raising it in preparation to fight. "Your name, before I run you through."_

_The man ran a hand over the edge of his blade, cutting open the skin of his palm implying that he had no fear. Blood poured from the incision and dripped over the cool metal of his weapon. "Kareem. And I will kill _you_ before your blade even swings once."_

_"I highly doubt that," Joachim replied with a cynical smirk. In the blink of an eye, the swords clashed together, a loud crack reverberating throughout the room and a scream escaped from Arianha's lips._

_Blood dripped to the floor forming a puddle in front of Joachim's feet. He looked over his shoulder and saw her poised close behind him, a look of fear on her face as she stared at the blade that was poking through his back. He turned his attention back to the man on the end of his sword and looked the man in the eye. "Looks like you're the one dying tonight." With a swift motion of his wrist, he pushed Kareem off his sword and the body fell to the floor, a final gasp of breath elicited from the man's crimson stained lips before life was expelled from him—blood oozed through the wound and seeping into the carpet._

_Joachim cleaned the blood from his sword before sheathing it. He stared down at his abdomen and gripped the handle of the sword that had been shoved through him. "Why does everyone have a fascination with trying to kill me lately?"_

_"But…you should be dead." Arianha breathed, a tear rolling down her cheek. _

_"It'll take more than any mortal weapon to kill me," He answered. He bent down and picked her clothes up off the floor, "and even though I can't die, it still hurts." He threw her clothes at her. "Get dressed. We're going on a little walk."

* * *

__Despite the unbearable heat outside, the tunnels were cool; they provided a soothing comfort from the scorching sun outside._

_They walked far into the tunnels—farther than she had ever ventured before—past the Nephilic villages and continued farther and farther into the darkness only with a single torch to light their way._

_"Joachim," she said resting her hand on his shoulder, and then regretting the action when he abruptly shrugged it off. "Where are we going?"_

_He didn't answer her question. Instead, he stopped walking and turned to face her, the flickering light from the torch illuminating his face. His lips where pressed to a thin line—there was no smile, not a chance of a smile. The blue of his eyes had been lost and replaced with a cloud of black. His hair had turned white and his skin was now pale and covered in markings. He wasn't his human self anymore. He had unleashed his Nephilim side in his anger._

_"We are here," Joachim said. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his body, dropping the torch to the ground. "This, my dear, is where you will spend all eternity."_

_Her brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?" She tried to back away from him, but he was far too strong for her. He had a good hold on her, and he wasn't letting go. "Let go of me!"_

_He kissed her hard, and then slipped a small, curved blade dagger from the sleeve of his coat. "I'm sorry." And he shoved the blade into her abdomen._

_Her hand clenched his shoulder as she gasped for breath, looking up at him with pain in her green eyes. "Why?" She breathed one last time as he pulled the blade from her body and she fell to the ground.

* * *

__Joachim exited the tunnels, his hands painted crimson, his face even more stoic than ever. He looked out at the horizon—the sky was cast in a blend of vibrant reds, orange, and pinks. From the side, a fellow Nephilim approached him._

"_Sir?" the Nephilim said, placing a concerned hand on Joachim's shoulder._

"_Go to the cave at the back of the tunnel," Joachim instructed. "Bury the body, build a sacrificial alter above the grave…" he looked the Nephilim in the eye, "and close the doors."_

"_Close the doors?" the Nephilim questioned. "Sir, but, they've never been closed."_

480 BC, Presently  
Karel closed his eyes and ran a gloved hand over his face. He hated reliving old memories—there were so many of them. Most of his memories were things that he had tried to forget, things that he never wanted to remember. That was his past life, it was behind him. But it was the memories of the past that made him the person he was today. Besides, he didn't have time to dwell in the memories of his younger years; he had bigger and better things to look forward to.

If he had done his research right, and read the spell right, he was back in Cappadocia a few days after he left for Greece. It would be hard to convince her that he was Joachim. It had been centuries since he was in this time last, and he'd changed so much—he was older, wiser, and his appearance was definitely different.

He rounded the corner, cautious of his footing and his surroundings. He knew that if he startled her, she wouldn't hesitate to send her weapon flying his direction, and if that were to happen, he would never make it back to the future.

As he neared her, he whispered, "Hello. I am here to speak with Arianha."

At this, she slowly turned around, hand poised over the disc on her hip. Her eyes glared at him as if trying to remember his face. "Your name, stranger."

"Joachim," Karel answered.

She raised her brows, eyes full of question. "That's not possible. The Joachim I know is taller, and his hair is darker." There was a brief pause as she clutched the disc, untying it from her belt. "Besides, he's left for Greece."

Karel hadn't thought this through. Of course she wouldn't recognize him; he had been in a different body then and looked nothing how he looked now. "Maybe you'll recognize this." He said as he morphed into his former self—a taller man with dark brown hair—then back to his current form.

She looked mislead, confused, lost. "What? I don't understand. This isn't possible. Joachim left for Greece. There is no way you…he…whoever…can be in two different places."

Karel stretched out his hand toward her. "I'll show you."

* * *

It was like nothing she had ever seen, nor experienced before. This man—Joachim, or so he claimed—had taken her on a journey a year into the future to show her what would become of her. She was appalled and in utter disbelieve that she would ever hurt him like that. And then learning that she would die in a year's time came to a complete shock to her as well.

"It still doesn't prove anything," she said. "I don't completely believe you."

"I'm not asking you to," Karel replied. "All I'm asking is that you come back with me. I need your help to open those doors behind you."

Arianha turned around and looked at the doors, standing wide open—never closed in their life. "That's absurd. They've never been closed."

Karel grabbed her by the shoulders. "Listen. You're death is the event that causes them to become locked for centuries. And now I need to get inside, but I can't do so without you present. That's the way we wrote the opening spell, so it would be impossible for any human being to open them."

She placed a hand on her hip and eyed him. "That makes no sense. If I'm supposedly 'dead' in this future you speak of, and you wrote a spell to open the doors, why would have included me?"

Karel closed his eyes and bit his lower lip. "So it would be impossible for any human to open them. Don't you see? We wrote the spell that way so a Nephilim would have to come back to this moment in time and bring you to the future. No mere mortal could do that." He paused for a bit, deciding whether or not he wanted to tell her the rest bit of information, the most _important_ piece of information. "I have to bring you back with me so the living you can inhabit the dead you."

"Why?" she asked.

"So you don't remember any of it."

* * *

Present Day

Karel tackled Arianha to the ground as the Lux warrior's Chirugai flew toward them.

"What the hell?!" She shouted, pushing Karel from her and standing up, drawing her sword. "Who are they?"

"The enemy," Karel said grabbing her by the arm and pulling in through the opened doors. Once on the other side, he inserted the dagger in a slot on the wall; the doors starting to close once again. The sound of a gun was heard as bullets whizzed past them through the opening between the doors, landing in the stone walls around them.

"Do we run?" Arianha asked, readying herself to sprint away from the gunfire.

"No," Karel answered, holding a gloved hand in the air. A smirk spread across his face as the opening between the doors became smaller and smaller before they slammed shut, trapping their enemies on the other side. "Ah, that's better." He dusted powdered rock from his shoulder and turned to walk down a tunnel.


End file.
